


Fate or Luck

by Prettyburgerprincess



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Meet-Cute, Post-Break Up, Tyler is the bad guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettyburgerprincess/pseuds/Prettyburgerprincess
Summary: Caroline refused to even think of the word Fate, but Luck was an interesting concept.After she catches Tyler cheating on her, she runs into Seriously Hot Broody Eyebrowz Guy at a cafe, and things kind of kick off from there.(Tyler is a crazy ex + Aurora is a crazy ex = Klaroline)
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 115
Kudos: 212





	1. The Catalyst

Caroline refused to even think of the word _Fate_ , but _Luck_ was an interesting concept.

Take that entire day of Highs and Lows, for example.

1) Woke up earlier than the alarm feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the day, BUT stubbed her toe on Tyler's stupid dumbbell as she got out of bed.

2) Her hair caught the button of a rarely worn blazer and yanked like five whole strands out of the front of her scalp, BUT then she put her hand in the pocket and discovered a twenty.

3) Gave Tyler's sleepy face a kiss and heard him murmur an unprompted ' _Hey. I love you_ '; BUT his morning breath was horrendous.

4) Got her travel mug ready with the most perfect coffee she'd ever made, BUT then spilled the last mouthful down the front of her pristine white shirt as she got off the elevator.

Now, all of those things were fairly independent of each other. She had barely noticed the bad for the extra cash and the fluttery feelings of the elusive _'I love you_ '. She looked kick ass, she was gonna be so early to work. The spill could still be rectified, because she was only an elevator ride away.

Interesting that when she got back to the apartment, she immediately caught Tyler and Hayley getting hot and heavy in the lounge.

Like. Not even less than two minutes after she left.

"Seriously?" she deadpanned.

Hayley at least had the decency to look ashamed, but Tyler tried to explain himself.

"It's not what it looks like!" he said quickly.

"Oh, I really wanna hear what it isn't." She raised her brows, looking between him standing at half-mast under his sweats and Hayley's top nakedness. "Go on."

"I was-..." He blinked at her. His hair was in crazy spikes from eager hands, which Caroline was ultimately familiar with because he usually looked like that after she was done with him. "I was -... She was choking."

"On your tongue?" Caroline guessed. Full bitch-mode engaged, she gave Hayley the Mother of all up and downs, pursing her lips. "What, you couldn't put a nice bra on, at least?"

Hayley glanced down at the worn hem of hers, a hand self-consciously going to hide the hole between fabric and elastic on her chest.

"Caroline," she said. "It hasn't been going on long, I swear."

"How many times?" Caroline prodded.

"Nothing happened," Tyler insisted. "She's just a friend."

"Twice," Hayley told her.

"In the apartment?" Caroline pressed. "In our bed?"

"Nothing has been going on," Tyler announced. "I haven't done anything with her, she's lying."

"Once in the apartment," Hayley agreed. She looked at the floor. "Yes, in the bed."

"Our bed." Caroline nodded. She took a calming breath in. "Where was the other time?"

"We didn't fucking _do_ anything!" Tyler took a step forward but didn't dare come any closer under Caroline's reproachful glare. "She's insane, Care. She's fucking lying, she came in here and took her shirt off-!"

"And then started choking?" Hayley muttered. "C'mon, Tyler."

"You did," he hissed. "Care, she came on to me. I didn't let her in, she knocked and then pushed open the door. She wants to fuck me, but I didn't want to hurt her."

"Where was the other time?" Caroline said, looking only at Hayley.

"At his work," Hayley admitted.

"That's why he got fired?" Caroline guessed.

"No," he said. "No, stop listening to her, she's full of shit-!"

"I think so," Hayley said. "He told me he wanted to focus on baseball."

"Baseball?" Caroline repeated with a frown. "He doesn't play baseball."

Hayley swallowed and glanced at Tyler, who bit out: _"Shut up and go!"_ She swooped down in an unfairly graceful crouch for someone with such long legs, and picked up her top, pulling it on hurriedly.

"He's taken me to a few of the games he's played in," Hayley mentioned. She zipped up the fly and looked at Caroline with meaning. "He's been talking about going professional for weeks."

"Oh really?" she said, and looked at Tyler. "Interesting. Was that before or after you lost your job and had me supporting the both of us?"

"I didn't lose my job," he hissed. "I left!"

"I called Benny," Caroline told him frankly. "I called him after the first week to ask why you'd left. He told me you were fired. He wouldn't tell me why. He kept saying it wasn't his business, which is hilarious given that it was his business you left in the lurch."

"You're such a nosy bitch," he snapped at her. "I told you it didn't matter! What the fuck right did you have to call my boss-?"

"I couldn't support the both of us and I had to give up college because you wouldn't get a job," she retorted sharply. "And you decided that the appropriate course of action while I worked my ass off and gave up on school was to bring the neighbors over and fuck them in our bed?"

Tyler's jaw clenched, and he glared at her resolutely, every inch the stubborn seven year old she'd known him as all those years ago. It was laughable, really, that she had wasted so many of her tears on this walking asshole.

It was like a flash went off in her brain.

Elena had mentioned time and again that Tyler was leery and gross with other girls. Bonnie had told her that he was touchy. Rebekah had said he outright asked her out, that one time, and when she'd reminded him he had a girlfriend, he'd said: 'Caroline who?'

This guy was... a jerk. He was... a jerky, dicky, ass-y little fuck boi. And she'd wasted... her whole teenage life... and a good portion of her twenty first year... being ass over head in love with him.

"You," she said slowly. "Are such a massive waste of my time."

"Caroline," he said, lifting his hands to her. "Hang on, hang on a second, just let me explain-"

"Mm," she said primly. "No thanks."

She looked at Hayley, who was inspecting her hands, and then back at Tyler, who started to walk towards her.

"Just wait," he urged. "I can explain-"

"We are so beyond over," she told him flatly. "Done. Forever. You're welcome to him, Hayley."

Hayley said something but Caroline couldn't hear over Tyler's protesting, which she couldn't hear because she was literally seeing red and had to leave before she clawed his cheeks into little ribbons.

He tried to grab her purse, but the handle broke and slid out of his grip (another weird little bit of luck. Broken purse? Not great. Broken purse to escape the suddenly clingy ex? Perfect.) She darted away and down the steps with him hot on her heels, but where she leapt over a puddle from the leaky roof, he skidded and ate shit on the way down.

Bursting into the pouring rain, Caroline made a hasty bee-line for the bus that had just arrived in the stop, jumping on and taking a window seat to stare out of it against the rivulets of water. She watched the murky people jogging in the rain and twisted her neck to look at the apartment building, just in case he ran after her.

He didn't.


	2. The List

It was at lunch time that the last piece of luck decided to run its course, and her phone died.

There had been no escaping the coffee stain on her blouse so she'd had to strip to her tank before she got to the office, which didn't look so bad under the blazer - but by itself was an interesting look when paired with the floral print dress pants and neat little flats.

The twenty she'd found in her pocket bought her a hot coffee and a lonely chocolate muffin, as well as a seat to a cafe she'd never been to before. She had to go to a new one, because she'd seen Tyler lurking at her one, looking up like a wounded puppy every time someone new walked in the door.

With her attention no longer absorbed in her phone - and really, where did she even start? She'd only been single before she'd dated Tyler, and she'd officially dated Tyler since she was sixteen. How did she even function, now that he wasn't a thing she had to consider?

The guy two tables down was doodling something with a pen, but he had another one just by his hand. He seemed to be concentrating on his phone, white wires leading to his ears.

Surely he didn't need two pens?

She got up and forgot that she was in a damp white tank, approaching him with her usual level of pep.

"Hey," she said brightly, and tilted her head at him.

He slowly lifted his attention to her, a little bewildered. He pulled a bud out of his ear and tapped the screen to pause whatever he was watching.

"Me?"

"Yeah." She gave him a big smile. "Uhm, can I borrow your pen?"

He lifted the one he was holding out to her, blue eyes sort of wide as he looked up at her from his seated position.

"Of course," he rumbled. Accent. Mm.

She took the end of it, then happened to see what he was drawing beyond his hand.

"Oh, if you're using it for a while, you should hold on to it," she told him. "I have like, three lists I need to write, and the other pen you have is a different colour."

"Hm?" He blinked, and then looked at his napkin. "Oh. Yes. So it is. You can borrow-" He swapped pens, and gave her the other one.

"Thanks so much," she said with a warm smile. "I'll give it back."

"Anytime," he quipped. It was just for a second, but his eyes dipped to her chest, and then back up again. "I'll be here."

She felt her smile wavering for a second - why were all men such pigs, honestly? - and went quickly back to her table, feeling a swell of heat fill her chest where his eyes had been.

Whatever. She didn't have time to dissect the feelings going on, so she flipped her napkin over, took an alarmingly large bite of the chocolate muffin, and started to write.

1) Break lease

There was no way she was living in that apartment any more. She didn't want to even sleep in her own bed, now she knew for certain it had been tainted by someone else's-... sex juices.

Ew.

2) Kill Tyler

No, no, no. She couldn't list that. That was premeditated. She put a determined strike-through, and then wrote:

2) Maim Tyler?

The end of the pen nearly made it into her mouth to chew. But glancing across at the guy reveled that he was, in fact, looking at her, and so she settled to tap it against her napkin. She shoved half the muffin in her mouth and happened to check on the pen-lender, who was still watching, but now with a bemused smile.

She chomped. He motioned to his own lip, and when she wiped hers a smear of chocolate followed across her fingertips. Great. Now the pen-guy thought she was a Neanderthal.

How did a modern girl break up with someone she lived with, exactly?

Annoyingly, she realized that Tyler had no money to his name, and that point apparently still stuck weirdly in her heart. She couldn't kick him out, even if she had've wanted the bed. He wouldn't be able to find an affordable place to sleep the night - unless that place was with Hayley.

3) Tell landlord Hayley smokes weed

4) Find a place to sleep

Where the hell would she find a place to stay on such short notice, though? And with what money?

She wanted to open the bank account app she had on her phone, but alas. It was dead. And she also knew by heart how many dollars were in there, and how many dollars had yet to come out. She still had to afford to get the bus to and from work, and now had to re-calculate her budget to include whatever distance she might have to travel from a temporary abode.

There wasn't anyone to reach out to, there. Her friends were in Mystic Falls. She had come out to study, and Tyler had reluctantly agreed as long as he got to pick where they lived - which had completely fucked with her control freakishness, thanks, asshole. He had made friends in his time off work, but she had whittled away her list to her work colleagues only... especially since she had to stop going to school to go full time and support them both.

5) Kill Tyler

"No," she muttered to herself. She gulped down a hit of coffee to clear out the last of the muffin that coated her pallet. "No leaving breadcrumbs. If I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna get away with it."

So she scrubbed out the fifth part of that list and rubbed her head with her hand, thinking, thinking, thinking.

5) Call Bonnie re: Moral Support

The breakup Queen would've been Elena, but did it count if she had broken up with and bounced between the Salvatores? She was currently dating Damon, but that had been a bust before. Caroline wasn't going to hold her breath (she was a huge fan of Stefan's, personally,) but if anyone knew how to handle a break up, it was Little Miss Gilbert.

But Bonnie, on the other hand, would build her up. She felt like she needed a full support team, like in those stupid race car pits. One for her feelings, one for her thoughts, one for her planning, and one to give her a hug.

God, she missed her mom.

6) Go back to school?

A glance around the cafe revealed that she had ages before she had to go back to work and make herself busy. She wanted to blame the rain for making her return early, but if one person even so much as asked 'how are you?' she was likely going to hyper explain how good she was, which was totally a self-preservation method that her friends would've understood was a Red Alert: Not OK.

But she didn't have friends. She had Tyler.

And Tyler had Hayley.

In _her_ bed.

She nibbled the edge of her muffin but it wasn't really doing anything for her any more. It had seemed like such a blessing, but now it was daunting - all that sugar, and coco. She was a single lady, now, she couldn't afford the extra pounds if she was supposed to be attracting guys, right?

 _Well,_ said the perpetually bright part of her. _That guy who gave you the pen didn't seem to mind how cute you are!_

 _In this outfit?_ she wondered, and then looked down to see how thoroughly soaked her top was... in addition to the bright blue of the bra underneath. _Ohhhhh, okay. He gets a pass to get a good ogle in. That's like... really obnoxious._

She pulled on her blazer and buttoned it, pulling her damp hair out of the collar and reddening at the thought of the whole cafe seeing her stupid bra. After feeling the heat fade, she tapped the pen against the napkin to try and coax thoughts to come.

None did.

Resigned, she got out of the seat and walked to the guy with the earbuds, a smile fixed in place.

He was already watching her with a passingly friendly upturn of his lip, a hand outstretched. Both his earbuds were still in, but there was a different sheet under his to-go cup, now.

She'd always been a snooper - her upside down reading was exemplary, thank you very much.

_Urgent, housemate required. One person bedroom, shared facilities. Close to bus and train. Secure building in downtown area. Contact Klaus at-_

"How urgent?" she said. She didn't let go of the pen, even though he'd latched on to the end of it.

He lifted his brows.

"Beg your pardon?" he said, pulling one of the buds out. Tinny, lazy jazz whispered out of the speaker between his finger and thumb. He still didn't let go of the pen.

"How urgent?" she repeated, glancing at the hand-written note.

He flicked his eyes down, and with a tug, took the pen away from her to slide into the satchel at his side. After realizing what she meant, he blinked back up at her.

"As soon as possible," he said blankly.

"What's the rent like?" she pressed.

He sort of tilted his head at her, like a wolf might consider its prey. He gave her face a quick side-to-side study, and pursed his lips into a frown.

"Depends," he said. "I'm guessing you're asking to move in for you?"

"Well, I'm not asking for anyone else."

"You'd be surprised," he told her with a weary rub of his left eye. "I've had four housemates since I moved here, and three of them came recommended to me."

"Oh," she said. "Why have you had so many? Is there something wrong with the place?"

"No, no, not at all," he said. "It's brand new. Amazing water pressure. Nice and quiet. Secure."

"Perfect." _So there must be something wrong with you, then. Hm._ "So, what's the rent like?"

"Not bad," he said. But he still wasn't really _giving_ her anything.

She looked over at her coffee and muffin, up to the clock behind her head. She caught him giving her blazer a long look, but didn't comment. Her luck had been weird all day. She wasn't going to question anything, at this rate.

"Can I come sit with you? We can talk about this a bit more. You can make sure I'm not a weirdo who goes around borrowing pens in a see-through shirt."

There was a moment where he dead-panned her, like he was processing what she had said as fast as he could, but not quite buffering as neatly as he might like. Still, he opened his hand at the seat across, watching her gather her stuff while she brought over her muffin and coffee. 

"What happens if I find you are the sort of person who bounces around in a see-through top and chews on pens that aren't hers?"

"I wasn't bouncing, and I _never_ chewed on your pen."

"You thought about it. It was basically in your mouth."

She forced back the retort (probably very witty, and charming) and plastered a smile on her face, Miss Mystic Falls worthy.

"At least I gave it back," she pointed out sweetly. "I'm not a heathen pen thief."

"I do hate a pen thief," he quipped. His eyes were a pretty blue, glittering like she'd said something intentionally funny. He locked his phone and leaned forward on his forearm. "Why the urgency to move?"

"Well," she said lightly. "I've had a-... Weird day."

"What kind of day makes you want to move houses in this economy?"

"A bad one," she told him. "Like, if it was a movie, you'd be like 'that doesn't happen in real life'. Capital B, Bad."

"How terrible," he mused. His mouth quirked. "What happened?"

"Oh, we are nowhere near the level of friendship required for me to explain," she said with a fixed smile. "Nowhere near. It's not important to my funds situation, if that's why you're asking."

"Does it have something to do with a boy named Tyler?" he mused. "And possibly a Hayley?"

The artfully placed smile dropped, and she felt her heart lurch in her chest. What the fuck? How had he known-?! Unless... Oh god. Had Tyler sent this guy to like, find her or something? It wouldn't be the first time he sent some slack-jawed lackey to put the guilt on her nice and thick.

She pushed out of her chair, ready to splash her coffee in his face, but his expression softened to let her know something had been lost in translation.

The napkin was open on the table, slid out from where she had put it beneath her muffin. The writing was turned to face him, and she definitely hadn't left it like that.

"It's been a _weird_ , bad day," she told him, and decided to sit down again. She took a fortifying sip of coffee, and felt her heart begin to slow into something more reasonable. "Sorry I'm jumpy."

"I read the-... List," he said, awkwardly motioning to it between them. "Sorry, love. I shouldn't have."

"Yeah, well I kind of set that precedent." She was sure she dazzled him with the pageant smile, and the sudden burst of playful hand waving to distract him from the fine tremble in her fingers. She managed to set aside the lurch of nausea in her belly and may or may not have fluttered her lashes. "I read your note, you read mine - now we're even. Are you actually considering letting me move in, or are you just going to keep dodging how much the rent is?"

He considered that for a second.

"You don't even know me," he mentioned. Like that was news to her. "Aren't you worried I could be some - crazy man with a preference for blondes?"

"Crazy men don't tend to mention that they've had a high turnover for housemates," she pointed out. Then, because it never hurt to mention it: "My mom was a sheriff. I know things about self-defense you've only seen in movies."

For some reason, that made him bite back a smile, and then try and pass it off as rubbing at his stubble.

"Like what?" he prompted.

She just sweetened her lash-batting. Disney Princess' would've killed for her talent.

"That would be telling."

He snickered. It wasn't all together unpleasant.

"You're bold," he said behind his hand. She wasn't sure if he had meant for her to hear it. "Rent will be pretty much standard fare, but it's due in six days. I can move you in as soon as you like, and I won't make you pay the week you stay. Let's call it a trial, hm?"

That was... perfect. She had six more days to get her head together - figure out a budget, get rid of the apartment, organize her stuff. Six more days was a blessing!

The wattage of her smile dialed up to beaming, and she didn't bother trying to hide it.

"You're an angel," she told him.

He scoffed.

"Honestly, love, I really think you should know a person a little longer before you decide that."

"I don't," she informed him, pretty seriously; but it got lost in the grin on her mouth. She pushed her muffin at him, and flexed her hand for his pen. "Eat the rest of this, I'm not hungry. I'm going to write you down my phone number because mine's dead, but, call or text me in like an hour, and we can sort out the details."

"The details?"

"I'm moving in tonight," she told the sheet. She scribbled her name and number, sealing it with a little heart. She felt giddy with joy, damnit. Her problem was like, half solved, and she had six extra days to work her shit out. Luck! "Not everything. Just somethings. Do you have a bed ready there?"

"No, the room is empty," he supplied. "Everything else is furnished, though."

"That's fine - I have a pretty reliable blow up I used to take camping. I'll use that until I can figure out what I'm doing. Is there a place to put my clothes?"

"A built in robe that seems to be too small for most of the women who stay there." He picked up his cup and sipped. "If you end up staying, I can clear space in the hall closet."

"I'll figure it out," she promised. She clicked the pen and passed it back without putting it anywhere near her mouth, and smiled again. "You're Klaus, right?"

He held out his hand.

"Unfortunately," he agreed. "You are?"

"Fortunately, Caroline," she teased. His hand was like, really calloused, and really warm. He had nearly no nail length, and one of them was mottled with bruising. "It was really nice to meet you, Klaus."

"Likewise," he said with good humor.

"And as much as I'd like to hang out, I have to go back to work." She didn't. She just didn't want to stick around and ask any of her pressing questions, like why he had so many housemates move out on him, and why was it urgent for someone else to move in, if he was just going to give her six days free, anyway? "Call me, or text me, which ever you prefer, and we can figure it out."

"In an hour, once your phone charges," he agreed. "I will."

"Enjoy the muffin," she said cheerfully, grabbing her coffee as she backed toward the door. She couldn't help but smile. Nice guys were real, right? He was a nice guy. This wasn't reckless. Her mother wasn't actively rolling in her grave and chanting about Stranger Danger. "I'll speak to you later!"

"Ta ta for now," he smirked.

She felt his eyes burn on her back the entire way out of the cafe, but it wasn't so bad, when the rain was as cold as it was.

Another one of those twisty, conflicting bits of luck.


	3. The Movies

Now that she and Tyler were finito, she had a startling amount of clarity about how _awful_ it had been to date him. The sheer amount of time they had come to blows big enough to send her reeling away from him to try and gather her thoughts, he had followed her - cooed and cried and cuddled her, until she was putty for him.

Tyler: I love you so much.

Tyler: I'm so sorry baby.

Tyler: I know I hurt you and I'm the worst, but from my point of view, it wasn't like you were around.

Tyler: I had needs. I just didn't want to be at you all the time.

Tyler: I know you're busy :(

Tyler: I love you Care. You're my entire world.

Tyler: She meant less than nothing to me.

Tyler: Can you text me back?

Tyler: So I know you're okay?

He never hit her, of course, but there had been a few times where he'd punched the wall, or thrown something heavy, or broken something of hers that she loved. The handful of times he had grabbed her when she wanted to go out, and made her stay inside, or the one time he was driving when he started a fight and then made her get out and walk the hour and a half home at night.

Tyler: I just want to forget anything ever happened

Tyler: I just want to hold you in my arms

Tyler: I would die if I ever lost you

Tyler: I can't even think about losing you

Tyler: You're everything to me Care

Tyler: I love you so much

Tyler: When you come home tonight we can talk

Wait.

 _Is this... abusive?_ crossed her mind once. Just the thought of it jarred her brain like someone had reached inside her skull and given it a shake. _No. Not abusive... but unhealthy, and manipulative..._

But when Damon had treated Elena like this? Caroline had been first to say the dirty word. Well... 'said' it. She had rolled her eyes and let out a disgusted puff of air at the latest theatrics, and announced: _'Fuck, Elena, he's playing literally every narcissist card in the book! He's being weird and totally abusive! Break UP with him already!'_

She had been shut out of Elena's life for a little while - maybe a handful of days? Which, at that point, was not something they did at seventeen years old. When Elena did manage to speak to her again, she was back with Damon, but she didn't talk to Caroline about that.

Tyler: Text me back so I know you're okay, at least

Tyler: Can I call?

Tyler: I won't yell, I just want to talk to you

Tyler is Calling.

Tyler: When you go out to lunch, text me and I'll meet you at your favorite cafe. I'm in the area so I can be there soon xx

Tyler: I love you Care xx

She sat upright in her ergonomic chair, staring without seeing into the computer.

Her phone started to buzz on the desk where she stared at it like she didn't know what a ringing phone meant. Another phone call, but this one without an ID. A part of her was rationalizing that it was Klaus. He _had_ given her the hour to get some juice in the thing. But there was always the chance that the foreign number was Tyler trying to coax her back with all the words he knew how to say when he fucked up.

She answered, but didn't say anything.

"...Hello?" said the accent on the other end. "Is this Caroline?"

"Oh, Klaus," she exhaled. "Hi. It's good to hear from you."

"Already?" he teased.

She laughed. It was extremely fake.

"It must be the accent," she joked. "Okay, so, here's what I need to know-"

"I've sent you a text," he told her, just as her phoned dinged in her ear. "I just wanted to see if it was your number. I'm just out getting you a key cut now. Do you have a favorite color?"

"Pink," she said, before he'd finished speaking.

"Magenta or pastel?"

"For a key? Pastel."

"They have one with little daisies," he suggested. "Or a plain pink one. The only other is gaudy and I'm not buying that."

Her next laugh was less forced. He sounded beyond truly disgusted in whatever he was looking at.

"Okay, I trust you." She clearly heard the sharp intake of his breath, but decided it might have had absolutely nothing to do with her, and pressed on. "Can I get just plain pink? I'll pay you back. How much is it?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, sounding breezy. Too breezy. She narrowed her eyes at nothing. "Consider it a housewarming gift."

"Aw, such a warm house," she retorted playfully. Then, acting on impulse: "Even warmer since my new housemate got a clear look in at my bra earlier."

He must've been drinking something, because the spit-take she heard was the stuff of legends. He apologized profusely to someone, and must've wiped his mouth, because she felt a warm tingle in her belly at his prickly stubble.

"That was an accident," he said pointedly. "Blue is my favorite color, and it looked absolutely smashing on you."

"Ew, such a boy," she mocked. "Is your favorite toy a car, too?"

"As opposed to _pink_?" His voice raised in pitch, his disgust for show. "And I suppose you left all your Barbies in the play mansion?"

"It was a Barbie Dreamhouse, excuse you," she said primly. She typed in something into her computer, keeping him tucked between her ear and shoulder.

"Oh, a Dreamhouse. I do beg your pardon." She could hear him roll his eyes. "You know, it was only a courtesy I called for you to pick the color of your bloody key. I'm getting you the least pink one I can find."

"Oh no," she lamented falsely. "Don't do that, I was so looking forward to a pink key."

"I'm going to make it ugly, now."

"How can you make a key ugly?" she challenged.

"I'll show you later," he decided. "What time do you think you'll be 'round?"

Her smile faded.

See, here was the thing that was becoming increasingly apparent to her.

Tyler was going to make all his tried and true moves to drag her back into his world, and she didn't want to have to deal with it. Like, he'd never _hurt_ her. But he wasn't going to let her leave, either.

"Uh," she said, and trailed off. She looked at the time - it was just past two.

How was she possibly going to face him alone? He'd have gone home when he didn't find her at the usual spot for lunch, right? Although he apparently thought she hadn't gone to lunch that day because, oh yeah, he'd been loitering at her spot to corner her there. Once he got home, though, he would wait there, because the cupboards were loaded with food and he didn't have a freakin' job to go to. He might've had baseball practice? But the only person who might've known anything about that was Hayley, and like...

She exhaled.

"There's no rush," Klaus was quick to mention.

"Yeah there is," she told him. "It's just going to be tricky, that's all. Uhm-... I'm so sorry to do this to you, but can I call you back? I've gotta - organize how I'm gonna do this."

"I have a car, if you need it," he offered. "I can drop by and load things in if you like?"

Her eyebrows went up.

"That's - actually so nice of you and it's so appreciated, but are you sure you don't have something better to do with your time?"

"Not today," he assured her. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. Trust me, I can be quite selfish."

"Are you going to steal all the hot water?" she teased.

"Relentlessly," he drawled, in a way that made her think he was the kind of guy who had stupid short showers. Showers weren't created for quick. He was a secret heathen.

"Ah, that's why all the others left. Should've known you were too good to be true," she told him with a small laugh. "Okay, I've gotta just make a quick call now, but I'll call you right back. Is that okay?"

"Sure," he told her. "I'll get the ugliest key in the world in the meantime."

"Oh my _god_ ," she said, and actually giggled at him. "You do that. I'll speak to you soon."

"Bye," he said, and she hung up.

He was like, super nice. What a nice guy! Yay Klaus. What a good find.

Caroline had to trust her instincts when she scrolled down to Hayley's name. She opened up their text thread, where the last message Caroline sent was something about _Did you hear Dozer from 3B went missing? :(_ to which Hayley had replied that they could team up and go and find him - and they had. The cat had gotten stuck on the roof, but no one ever found out how. Mrs. Whittiker from 3B had been hysterical, and the two of them had been plied with homemade cookies and hugged upon sight since.

This time, her message was a lot less friendly.

Caroline: _Can we talk?_

Hayley called her back instead.

"Hello Hayley," Caroline said, business-like.

"Hi." She heard Hayley take in a steadying breath. "I'm so sorry, Caroline."

"Good." She acknowledged. "Listen, is Tyler there?"

"No," Hayley said quickly. "No, I'm done with that. I know you might not believe me, but he told me that you guys were-"

"Yeah, I don't really want to hear it right now," she said, clipped. "Is he going to baseball tonight?"

"He's gone out now," she told Caroline. "I haven't heard him get back."

"Okay. Weird that he's left now, considering I didn't even know he left during the day at all." She clicked her screen, trying to get at least some work done while she took her personal calls.

"He said something about going to find you," Hayley admitted.

"He didn't," Caroline confirmed. "He tried, but not hard enough as it turns out. What else is new? Anyway. Can you keep a look out for him? Text me if he comes home before I do?"

"Yeah, of course," Hayley said.

"I'm leaving work now," Caroline mentioned, logging out of her files and sending an email faking cramps to the boss. He hadn't even opened it and she was leaving. So what? Meryl left work all the time. Caroline hadn't ever even been late! "I know you're technically on your weekend, but since you had an itty bitty hand in wrecking my life this morning, I need your help because I have no friends."

Hayley was already agreeing.

"I'll help," she said. "What do you need?"

"I'm moving out," Caroline said boldly. "I need to get the stuff I can't live without out of there as quickly as I can."

"I can get some boxes from the storage unit," Hayley said. "And I have duct tape here."

For the first time that day, Caroline felt a thick wad of tears building in her chest. There was an awful moment of in between - being a cold, cool bitch about to leave her man, and the small town country girl about to walk away from the boy she'd loved for forever.

Something about how helpful Hayley was being made her swallow against the urge to cry.

"Oh my god," Caroline said. "Are we friends?"

"I thought we were," Hayley admitted. "I've always been a really shitty friend, though, and if you hate me I one hundred per cent don't blame you, because I hate me too."

Caroline ducked out of the office with her broken bag and trotted down the single flight of stairs without saying anything for a moment. Once she stood in the foyer, she caught her breath.

"I don't hate you," she admitted. "I'm seriously hurt and I kind of don't want to talk about anything right now, but I don't hate you."

Hayley sounded pretty wobbly herself.

"Oh."

There was a pause.

"So," Caroline said, back to business. "I'll catch the next bus and be there in like twenty minutes, okay? Just do what you can with my clothes. Do you know where the spare key is?"

The pause, at first, didn't make sense to Caroline.

"Yeah..." Hayley said softly.

But Caroline hadn't ever told Hayley where the key was. So Tyler must've done it. For the purposes of her getting into their bed and having their cheater sex all over her expensive sheets.

"I'll see you soon," she said, and hung up.

What a weird day.

She ignored the string of text messages from Tyler that had been coming in as she spoke to Hayley, and found Klaus' unsaved number in her calls list.

"Hey," she said, feeling tired. "I'm so sorry to drag you around today, but I have a plan."

"I'm not bothered," Klaus said. "You alright, love?"

"What? Yeah! Yup! I'm fine." There was a lot of chirp in there, but she wasn't sure where it had come from. Probably hand-in-hand with the bone deep urge to clean something. "Totally fine! Just a long day! So, uh, I'm on my way back to my place now - I left work early. I never do this. It feels so bad, like, I fully expect a truancy officer to like, grab me, right now."

"You were rebellious in your youth, I can tell," he drawled. Something about his tone let her know that her ramble had not distracted him, which was extremely alarming. Talking about her feelings would make her feel them. Thankfully, he didn't comment. "You said you have a plan?"

"I'm packing what's important and what I don't want to get left behind, and I need to have it out before he gets home," she said quickly. "I know it's - so, not, your problem, but can you drive over to me so I can take more of my stuff in one trip?"

There was a pause.

"I promise I'm not bothered. I'm walking to my car now," he said quietly. There was a weight in his words she wasn't sure about. It sounded concerned. "This person you're avoiding. Has he put his hands on you?"

She cleared her throat, boarding the bus.

"Nope." It sounded strained, even to her. The seat she took was a grateful one, steadying her nerves as she clutched the post in one hand. The bus lurched off, and she was so stiff she nearly fell out of her seat.

"You feel unsafe," he guessed.

"I just don't want to deal with him. It's okay. You're not - I wouldn't have asked you if he would've like, hurt you. I promise you'll be okay. He's not there, and, he doesn't - hit people, or anything. You're gonna be totally safe."

"You're worried about me?" She heard a car alarm in the distance of his background, echoing footsteps like he was in underground parking. "You've only just met me."

"You only just met me," she reminded him, feeling a little pink in the face. "And you're coming to my rescue with your car and your home, like an actual angel. I can't tell you how much you're bailing me out, Klaus. You have to be the nicest person I've ever met."

"I'm not a nice man by nature," he told her. It was the most simply honest thing she'd ever heard from any one, ever.

"You're being really nice to me," she blurted. It was nice. He was nice. So nice. Was he gonna do something weird to her while she was sleeping? "Ugh, I can't do this to you. I don't want you to waste your day - listen, don't get me, I can catch a cab. I might have to stay tonight but I could probably find somewhere by tomorrow -!"

"Nonsense. The place is yours for at least the next six days if you want it, I'm already on my way," he said. "Send me your address?"

"Oh, yeah." She pulled her phone away and went to get into messages to type out where he'd have to meet her, only to scroll through Tyler's escalating bullshit.

Tyler: Care I know you're reading these, okay

Tyler: It's not fair for you to freeze me out

Tyler: I'm trying to fix this

Tyler: I never wanted to hurt you

Tyler: I just want you to know I'm getting you some wine and your favorite take out so when you come home you don't have to worry about dinner.

Tyler: And we can talk like adults, instead of ghosting each other like kids

Tyler: I love you so much and I'm willing to save what we have

Tyler: Are you?

"The maps say I'll be nearly half an hour, love." Klaus' voice was like... truly other worldly. She hesitated typing out a reply, startled to realize she'd sent Klaus a message without even realizing it. She put the phone back to her ear to listen to him - she didn't reply to Tyler. "Do you need someone there sooner?"

"I'm meeting Hayley."

"The one on your list?"

"Yeah," she muttered. "She's my - friend?"

"Convincing," he said, in a completely unconvinced tone.

"It's complicated," she said, almost defeated. "God, I'm so sorry to have dragged you into this. You don't need this in your day."

"I don't mind," he assured her. Then, lightly: "I had nothing else to do. I like to be kept occupied."

The sigh that came out of her was relieved. He sounded sincere, and not at all bothered. Maybe it was the accent, but she found the lull of his voice extremely soothing. Her heart throbbed as more messages bounced against her ear, but she didn't look to check them.

"I'll be as quick as I can, and we can occupy you with something that isn't completely a waste of your time," she fortified. "I'll bring my stuff straight down, and I'm only bringing what I can't leave behind, so we'll be out of there in less than an hour."

"And if the bloke comes back in the mean time?" he said mildly. There was an implied warning under that mildness that made her wonder if he wasn't a tier away for being a crazy person with a hard on for murder. Or voodoo. Or... Cannibalism. "I'll have a word with him, shall I?"

"No," she told him firmly. "No. I'm handling it. It'll be neater if I pretend he's not a real thing that happened."

"I can make it a quiet word," he promised. "You won't even know I'm there."

"He's not worth the burning the calories to talk to him, Klaus."

He cleared his throat.

"Maybe I won't say much."

"Do _not_." Her voice sounded flat, even to her. Despite the fact he'd been a genuine A+ dude all morning, which did not mean he wasn't the type of guy that stayed that way. "No Alpha macho peacocking."

"I don't need to fluff my feathers, I am the Alpha. If a little - _conversation_ , was to happen, maybe between us I could... sort him out, a bit?"

"No," she insisted. "You're offending my delicate lady sensibilities."

"Do you have any of those?"

To spite her mood, she smothered a laugh. She felt it resonate down the phone.

"Delicate lady sensibilities? Why would you think I was in deficit for those? Let's see." She hummed, pretending to think. "Flashed my bra in a wet shirt to a whole cafe, started talking to a guy and moved in with him later the same day, ate half a muffin in one bite and wore the other half on my face - honestly, the points are totally in my favor."

"Part of your charm," he mused.

It was so easy. There had been such a lack of kindness, in her life. She hadn't noticed. Hayley really had been her only friend for months on end, but Tyler hadn't liked them hanging out more and more in recent weeks. It was possibly because he was boning her the whole time and felt guilty, but it might've also been because Hayley wanted to tell her.

"Oh, that's Hayley calling," she said, glancing at her phone. "I'll see you soon. Thank you so much."

"I'll see you soon," he told her.

She hung up and answered Hayley's call, expecting that Tyler had given up his hunt for her and come home to find Hayley packing her shit. Wasn't sure how exactly she was going to react, but she didn't need to worry. It was a little bit worse than that.

"Before you get here," Hayley said, her voice shaking.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm mad." She was breathing hard. Fabric rubbed against cardboard, and duct tape unrolled with a satisfyingly loud rip. "I just wanted to warn you, before you got here and saw. I'm not the only one."

"What do you mean?" she said. "Is Tyler home?"

"No," Hayley exhaled hard. "He's cheating on you with other women. I'm not the only one."

Honestly? Not surprised.

"Yeah," she said coolly. "I thought so. What did you find?"

"An iPad," Hayley grumbled. "Under the squeaky floorboard."

"What squeaky floorboard?" Caroline repeated, followed by the realization. "Ohhhh. The one next to the bed. The one on my side, where he puts the dumbbell."

"That's the bitch."

"Was it not locked?"

"Yeah, but I took a wild guess at the code."

"Don't tell me it's his birthday."

"What would be the last set of meaningful numbers that you would ever guess? Especially when you knew everything about him?" Hayley prodded. "I'm a little grossed out by the fact I thought of this. I guess it's because I'm also a filthy fucking whore."

"You're not a whore," Caroline said. "He didn't pay you. Unless he did. In which case I hope you got your money's worth."

Hayley, hearing the joke, gave a pitiful laugh.

"I'm no Pretty Woman."

"He's definitely not Richard Gere."

"Guess the code," Hayley prompted, then scoffed. "Ugh. You won't get it. Only us bog people can think like this. So you give up?"

"I still think it's some blend of his birthday," Caroline hazarded a guess. "Out of order, or something?"

"Not his birthday. Yours." Hayley took a deep inhale in. "Which I remember because for your birthday, he brought himself a new leather jacket... With money he borrowed from me, to get you something. That was before we-"

"It doesn't really matter," she said with a shrug that Hayley couldn't see. "I'm not going to look at it, but what's on there?"

"A bunch of porn featuring him. Which is such a huge ego stroke for someone not even that good at sex," Hayley mumbled. "Jesus... There's like, five, six, seven different girls on here? Everything has a date. Nine, ten - your co-worker Shelly is in here-... What the fuck?"

"What?" Caroline prodded. "More people I know?"

" _I'm_ on here," Hayley said loudly. "What the fuck! I never even saw him-?! Caroline, you're on here too!"

Caroline blinked.

"What?" she repeated, just in case this was a very bad dream.

"He filmed-" Hayley managed to get out. "Oh my god, I'm gonna kill him."

"No," Caroline said calmly. "You're gonna leave that iPad on the bed, and keep packing my stuff."

"What?" Hayley said flatly.

"Don't delete anything," Caroline said mildly. "Just trust me. I haven't got a heap of charge in my phone, but I'll be there shortly, and I will fix it when I get there. Pack all the stuff of mine you can."

"I can't believe this," Hayley scoffed. "The fucking nerve of that little prick-"

"That doesn't sound like packing," Caroline said. She didn't have time to mope - she had stuff to pack, things to do. Once she had gotten her valuables and clothes and was safe in Klaus' place, she could re-evaluate her emotions. But as of that moment... "You better toughen up those ovaries, because we've got a lot to do and no time to do it."

"I can't believe he's filmed me," Hayley sulked. "Like... At least you know I wasn't lying, now. The two times we -"

"I'm hanging up now," Caroline told her, and made good on the threat.


	4. The Move

Hayley had made a decent dent in getting her clothes into boxes by the time she got there.

"Start taking these downstairs," Caroline said, instead of 'hello'. She put her bag down with a thump on the kitchen table, and made a bee-line for the bedroom.

"What about the iPad?"

"What about it?" she said blandly. "It's not getting me the fuck out of here. There's a guy coming with a car - I don't know what car he drives, but his name is Klaus, and he's British-"

Hayley's face did a weird thing, but she didn't say anything. She just loaded two boxes into her arms, and nudged one along with the shoe, and started the arduous process of getting Caroline's things into the elevator and down the stairs.

Caroline made short work of getting into his already logged email account and making sure that all the videos - and pictures - hadn't been sent anywhere. Then she turned on airplane mode, put the iPad into her bag and replaced the dumbbell on the floor, then turned toward her various things.

She grabbed her laptop and charger, along with the cord to her phone, the priceless three photos of her with her mother, and the money box full of spare change she'd been putting away for a holiday. The top was dusty, but the box was heavy.

Next came her most useful pairs of shoes. Her most expensive ones followed shortly after. She piled her two other handbags on top and nudged them in Hayley's direction when she came back up.

"What are you going to do with the iPad?" she asked, almost shy.

"I'm holding onto it," she said lightly.

"Are you gonna take it to the cops?"

"Worse," she said simply. "Don't worry, Hayley, I wouldn't send them to anyone."

"He can't get away with it," Hayley said. "Not to you, not to me, and all the other girls."

Caroline's smile was very sweet.

"Oh, Hayley. Don't let the blonde Southern thing fool you - I'm meaner than I look. Can you take those two? The little one is surprisingly heavy, but it has to go on top. My laptop is in there. Thanks."

The too-friendly neighbor lingered as if she meant to push about what she'd found and what exactly Caroline planned to do, but resigned herself to obedience under the withering look Caroline shot her. She picked up the boxes mindfully, and took them to the elevator.

Caroline tossed in a handful of her favorite books - ones with loving messages written on the inside cover from her dad, Elena and Bonnie. She took Matt's jersey - the one she had to stop wearing around Tyler, because he got jealous - and put it on over her tank top. It was stale and a little faded, but having Matt have her back was priceless to her.

She collected toiletries, hair straightener and dryer in a hasty sweep of her arm, abducting the whole cleaning shelf in its own box.

Hayley wisely didn't comment, just grunted to lift both boxes and took them downstairs.

The camping blow up bed was in a roll-up bag, easily slung around her body. The only other thing Caroline snatched was her remaining armful of unworn dresses and her favorite pillow. On the way out, she pulled one of her huge bath towels, and her most expensive thread count sheet set. Even though she was looking into the cupboard, it didn't cross her mind to bring along her pretty bedspreads, or one of the many decorative pillows.

She shouldered her handbag, kicked the boxes out with her feet, and met Hayley at the parting doors.

"Klaus is here. I know him." Her eyes were like, really wide, white almost all the eye around. "He was my trainer at boxing."

"Uh huh," Caroline panted. Her boxes were heavy, and she was trying really hard to think about if she'd left anything behind. If she had, there was every chance she'd never see it again. She was trying to revisit the ' _things I'd grab if there was a fire_ ' list, but Hayley interrupted her.

"I mean, he owns the gym I trained at. Remember I told you about that guy?"

"Yeah." Caroline said. She checked in her handbag. She had, at some stage, dumped her diary in there. "Cool."

"I don't think you remember," Hayley started, more passionately. "Remember how I said he's the current lightweight MMA champion, and that he liked my left hook? He's like - a big deal?"

The doors swooped open.

"Em-Em-a? Mama? Wait, am I saying it right?" Caroline tilted back to keep her boxes afloat, mostly blocking her view. "What's M-ah stand for?"

"Caroline," Hayley said from the corner of her mouth, but Caroline wasn't really listening to the warning.

"A mama champion? Wait - MMA? Isn't that a drug?"

"I think that'd be MDMA, love," Klaus said. He had some of her boxes in his arms, staring pointedly at Hayley. He shifted his attention to her, his brow ticking. "Alright?"

"Perfect," she assured him. "This is it."

"That's all?" He looked at the boxes between him.

"Yeah, there's all the stuff in the car, too," she pointed out.

"Again," he said. "That's all?"

She puffed and reshifted the boxes in her arms to lean more heavily against her belly. A rough breath pushed out of her.

"I've got everything I can't live without. I don't care about the rest." That was a lie. When she was looking at her ugly bed later that night, she would realize how badly she missed having a nice bedspread. "I just want to get out of here. Also you're parked in a towaway, and if you don't move you'll get a ticket."

He gave her a halfcocked smirk and turned, eyes flashing at Hayley for a second before he lead the way outside into the pouring rain. They loaded the rest of the admittedly huge car with plenty of room for her in the front seat.

"Thanks, Hayley," she said, when the door was shut behind the last of her stuff.

Hayley shifted. She seemed quiet, under Klaus' scrutiny. Her hands were wedged in her pockets and she was determined to look at the spot over Caroline's shoulder.

"I'm - really sorry," she said again.

"I'm still not ready to talk about it," Caroline said, falsely bright. "I'll call you. We can talk then. But not today."

"That's more than I hoped for," Hayley admitted.

Caroline pitied the mortal soul out of her. There was a story written there, one that had convinced Hayley to do what she had done - it wasn't like Caroline expected her to be a dirty rotten side piece, especially when she seemed kinda badass, for someone who had lived alone for as long as she had.

She knew Tyler had a way with fragility. She had known all her life that he could handle it in his own particular way, make it seem like a special treat that he was talking to someone. There was something backhanded in the way he said things, though, that simultaneously put a person down and made them want to be around him for a fraction of the good stuff.

"It's okay," Caroline said, and gave her a quick squeeze. "I get it. I'll talk to you when I'm ready, okay?"

"Yeah," Hayley, bewildered, locked her arms around Caroline and squeezed her back. "Yeah. I - I-... Yeah."

"Make sure you lock the chain on your door when you're home," Caroline told her. "And move your spare key as soon as you get upstairs."

"Okay," Hayley managed to get out.

Caroline released her, though Hayley didn't feel ready to be let go.

With a cheerful wave, Caroline hopped into the car, and shut the door with a sharp snap.

"You're remarkable," Klaus said, as soon as he'd turned the vehicle on. The engine purred with life, the permeating scent of new car wafting between them as all the lit up gauges flipped into place. "She told me what happened."

"I doubt she did," Caroline said, and glanced at him.

He was all rain damp half curls, glittering baby blues; an unshaven cheek, a dimple, and plush pink lips. Still wearing a well-loved mauve hoodie and very basic black jeans, he seemed the kind of guy that drove old muscle cars and spoke at length about heavy metal music. He directly contrasted with the shiny vehicle rumbling in his hands, though he looked at ease in the pricey confines.

"I don't think it was everything," he agreed. "But from even the small piece she admitted to me - I can't believe you were the one offering her comfort, when she's done that to you."

"It's nothing," she said easily. "But also, I wasn't kidding. I'm not ready to talk about it."

"I wouldn't dare push you," he mused. He checked the rear view mirror and indicated, then pulled out into the street. "When you're so street smart, and all that."

"Says the mama champion," she teased, thankful for the distraction. "What even is it, anyway?"

He shrugged.

"Only my livelihood."

"Isn't it fighting?" At his nod, she turned and looked out the dreary window. "You have to be good. Hayley just doesn't go all shy around anyone."

"Is that what you think that was?" He didn't wait for a reply. "She didn't tell you, then?"

"If this is about He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, I don't care."

"It isn't. It's about her." He waited a beat. "She didn't tell you she stopped boxing?"

"I think she mentioned moving gyms." There was a while to cast back. Maybe three months or so ago? Hayley had been really, really excited to tell Caroline about the new trainer, or the gym owner, or whatever - but Tyler had been in a mood so she had cut the chat short.

"I kicked her out," he told her. It was like the news was some tasty little treat, he was giving her, but Caroline didn't take it like one. When she continued to look out the window at the passing scenery, he added: "She has a very bad temper."

"It's not that bad."

"Her 'not that bad' temper put one of my students in an ambulance," he expanded. "I suppose that was a good lesson in size not meaning a lick if there is proper training behind it. The bloke she took down was a good six inches taller than she is."

Caroline nodded.

Yeah, she could see why Hayley wouldn't have mentioned that. She had said, in their early friendship that she had moved around a lot as a kid. Had spent a lot of time roughing it, barely knew what it was like to live out of a wardrobe and not a bag. She had admitted to the roughness of her past, and told Caroline about one or two of the bar fights she'd been in - but how she'd lost a near friend to a stray knock to the back of the head. How she didn't want the life she'd been living. How she wanted a family, one day, but she'd never bring them into the world if they weren't going to have the best possible life.

"Hayley isn't all combat boots and ripped jeans, that's just what she wants you to see," she told him. "There's a delicate sensibility in there, too. It just dresses itself differently to most people."

He cast a look at her from under his lashes, then refocused on the road.

"I don't think Hayley knows the word delicate," he mentioned with a wry twist to his mouth. "I let her spar with me once, and she about knocked my head off."

"Oh, left hook?" Caroline said, brightening as she turned to look at him. "She said you thought it was good."

" _Good_ ," he said with humor. "Up there with the best. She's faster than I ever gave her credit for, that's for bloody sure. Won't catch me out like that again."

"Lessons I learned today," Caroline announced. "Hayley can punch really fast. Got it."

His lips kicked up into a grin, and he indicated to make a turn.

"Lessons I learned today," he parroted. "Caroline is infallible in her optimism."

"I'm plenty fallible, and since we're gonna live together, you're gonna find out how whether I like it or not." She pushed the button for the radio and his phone connected, playing some wordless jazz at top volume. She lunged for the dial to turn it down, but he batted her hand away.

And started scatting.

She had no idea if it was any good or not, but she enjoyed it thoroughly regardless.


	5. The Tower

The massive building had an actual guard to verify Klaus as an inhabitant, and they drove beneath it to get a park that was painted with a blocky: K.Mikealson.

She'd heard the name on the radio, seen the promos for the big shows on TV, and thought she might've remembered some controversy or another from the News app on her phone. It wasn't anything to remember for the purposes of her personal safety - no rape allegations or back door brawling, or whatever. But she would have to Google it later.

Squinting in the sudden dimness of the garage, she looked at him.

"Quick question," she said.

"Quick answer."

"Are you one of those stupid rich athletes?" she asked, somewhat politely.

He held up his thumb and forefinger.

"Slightly."

"Huh." She looked out of the window and then looked back at all her stuff. "Does the slightly wealthy boxing champion man have an elevator, or are we taking the stairs?"

"Elevator," he told her with a wry smile. "Private. Only myself and two of the other tenants have the pass key."

"...Right." She looked back and him, a small frown pulling at her mouth. "How much did you say rent was, again?"

"I didn't," he confirmed. She had wondered why the numbers hadn't mattered. The thought that he was ridiculously rich never even crossed her mind - she had been sweating about rent for so long, she couldn't imagine a world in which she didn't have to worry about paying it. "We can discuss that after we get your things, and have a cup of tea."

"But what if I can't afford it?" she said quickly. "We can't unpack just to re-pack. Give me like, a vague idea?"

"What are you paying for your place now?" he queried.

She told him, surprised when his brows shot up. Shifting uncomfortably, she fiddled with the end of one of her curls.

"It's not that much. We did okay between us."

"Is that what you're paying in total, or each?"

"It's what I pay," she said uneasily.

"You both paid that much?" He blew out a breath. "For that place?"

"No, that's the total," she said, and swallowed. "Tyler lost his job. It came out this morning he was fired. I've been paying that by myself."

He blinked.

"How long have you been doing that?"

"Oh, like..." Her hands felt restless. She opened her door, and said in a rush: "Few months, maybe? Do you have a game plan for these boxes, or should I just grab stuff and go? Actually - I'll take the expensive stuff up first - where's the little box with my laptop in it?"

If he wanted to comment on the Tyler situation (she felt in her actual bones, he did,) there was a remarkable amount of self-discipline going on, because he just pointed to the box she'd asked after. He loaded three boxes into his arms to outdo her two, and then indicated with a nod of his head where they were going.

He dipped to wave a key card against a small black rectangle, and when they got into the immensely huge, shiny silver box, the blue strip above the numbers said: 'Hello, Mr. Mikealson.'

"Wait," she exclaimed, staring at it, then him. He easily maneuvered the boxes and pressed the desired number on the pad to shut the doors and get them moving. "The elevator says hello to you?"

"It does that for everyone," he said easily. He resolutely looked forward, a slight pink blooming in his high cheekbones. "It's programmed with the card."

"Oh," she said, realizing it hadn't randomly addressed him by name. "That's cool. How long have you lived here?"

"About two years?" he guessed.

"Do you like living here?"

"I like that it's quiet. Management have yet to leak the address to the masses, and the security is very good at keeping the vultures out of the public parts of the building."

Like, she understood what those words meant individually, but together, they kind of had a really different implied meaning. Although it was rude, she wasn't being subtle while she stared inquisitively at the side of his head.

"Vultures?" she repeated.

"Paparazzi," he scoffed. "Bane of my very existence."

"This is like that movie." Still staring at the side of his head, she broke into a wide smile that made him look at her from under his lashes.

"Which movie?"

"The one where I'm Julia Roberts, and you're Richard Gere."

"Do you... like, that movie?" was his tentative question.

"I love that movie," she said brightly. He cracked a grin. "Although I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that you've never seen it."

"There's not a lot of time for movies, and the ones I do watch are often the ones I know I like." There was a little bell, a pleasant jingle, and the doors parted in a silent rush of air. "Here we are. Could you get my keys from my pocket? Back left."

She obliged, straining in her arms with the boxes, but dug out his keys. If the backs of her fingers brushed his very pert backside, that was her business.

"Where's my ugly key?" she demanded falsely.

He barked a laugh.

"Front left pocket. You can just use mine for now. The black one."

It did things to her, that his keys were obviously color coded. He had a few in varying shapes and sizes, and the most different ones remained the boring silver - but all the similarly sized ones - there were seven - were different colors.

The black one opened the door, and Klaus bumped the lights on with his elbow, striding in.

"Just set them down here for now," he suggested. "There's only a load left between us, probably. I'll give you a tour on the return trip."

And like. She heard him. But also she couldn't respond, because she was busy trying to drink in all that _space_.

The sheer size of the apartment was bordering on indecent. The sunken lounge with a horse-shoe shaped, custom made couch was ridiculous. The small hall immediately opened into the sweeping living area; built for fancy cocktail parties. There was a glossy black piano, a jukebox glowing just to the right of it. A bar stood illuminated by the neon at the far back, the wall behind it full of open booze - most of it the glowing amber variety, with labels she'd never read but looked pretty expensive. The windows went roof to floor, with sheer curtains drawn across, only slightly obscuring the simply outrageous view of the city.

But her eyes found the painting, and she moved toward it like a moth to a flame.

"Oh my god," she heard herself say, in a breathy voice she'd never heard before.

"Do you like art?" Something was awkward in him when he asked.

"I don't really know a lot about art," she confessed, not sure why she was whispering. The room was huge, circular and empty - she'd echoed on arrival. "But I really like this. I might actually love this."

"Do you?" He put her boxes down, and unloaded hers straight out of her arms, putting them by her feet. "Why?"

"Why? Klaus!" She didn't want to take her eyes off the gorgeous painting. It was in acrylic, that much she knew. The paint had an amazing texture that made her think of movement - which was fantastic, given that the painting was of a dancing lady. "She's gorgeous, that's why!"

The dancer's hair was an auburn blur that obscured her features but for a softly open mouth. She was spinning in a spot light, very little to denote where she was other than on a stage, somewhere. She wasn't wearing a top to reveal smallish breasts topped with perky pink nipples - the skirt was long, but completely sheer, in a dove grey color. The strokes of the brush had made her hair, the shadows, and her skirt all seem to sway.

"It's not the best I've seen," he mentioned. There was a touch of on-guard about him that she didn't like, but wasn't sure how to fix. Maybe because the painting was a touch feminine?

"I still love it," she gushed. She looked at him, feeling the stars in her eyes. "Do you have a lot of art?"

"I used to have more. She's-... one of a kind." He didn't look at the painting. "Why do you like her so much?"

"Because," she said simply. "It's really pretty, even if it's simple. I don't know art, I can't really explain."

"Art is subjective, love. You only need to say what you think."

"I don't know. She's gorgeous?" She wrinkled her nose. "No, it's more than that. I like - I like the texture, and the movement in her hair and in her dress, I guess? I really like the colors being like that. She's - got an attitude. It looks like she's having fun - like she's got secrets, or something."

"Certainly or something," he said, low with humor. He took his keys out of her hand. "One more trip, then you can stare at her some more."

"She'll give me a complex," she joked. "The only dances I know are pageant-y ones with a partner."

"Better than the reverse," he said. "You could be like her, and always dance alone."

"With my boobs out?" she inquired, and made him bark a laugh.

"As opposed to your everyday look, which is wet shirt and blue bra," he said, mock seriously.

"That's not my everyday look." She lifted her chin at him and suppressed the beginnings of her smile. "Don't worry, you'll find out eventually."

"I look forward to it."

They chatted about the building as they rode the elevator down and collected the final few boxes from the car. Apparently there were two sides to it, a public and private space. There was a shop front complete with cafe, small bookshop, and post office - inside was a world class restaurant and ballroom backing onto an indoor pool and fitted gym.

"I haven't been swimming in ages," she said thoughtfully, trying to cast her mind back. She was following Klaus' lead, turning off from the kitchen to pace down a hall that curved slightly to the right. "Maybe literal years?"

"I should swim more," he said with a huff. "My physio recommends at least twice a week, given everything else I do."

"Don't you like the pool?" she tried.

"I don't like chlorine," he said. He put his back to the door, and dipped to open it with his elbow. "This is your room."

The door opened, and the sky filled the entire back wall. Like the lounge, the window was floor to ceiling, bracketed by deep navy curtains. Rain had never looked so close - like she was walking around in the sky itself. The rest of the room was impeccably clean, and very, very empty. It was bigger than the entire layout of her last apartment.

"This is my room?" she said weakly.

"Yeah." Distracted, he set down the boxes and opened the only other door there, revealing a small closet. "Is this going to be enough room for you?"

"Enough room?" she parroted, putting her things down and wondering over to see the view from the window. It was magical, seeing the tiny lights of moving cars twinkling like little fairies flitting in and out of the tree line. People dashing to and from, and shapes in the distance she was willing to bet was the city. "Klaus, it's massive."

"The closet," he clarified.

"It's completely fine." She glanced at him with a smile that made her cheeks hurt. "This is the most amazing place ever."

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head.

"I wanted to make it my personal gym," he admitted. "That's why there's no adjoining bathroom. I had it set up for a month or two, but it lacked... appeal. Seemed a shame to waste the space."

She looked out the window again, putting her arms around her stomach. It was a long day, and the rip of high and low was starting to give her a severe headache; she wanted to have an entire large pizza to herself, and watch movies until she could sleep.

The chances of that, though, were not high.

"I'll show you the rest of the place," he said.

She followed with her pageant smile, and kept a tight hold of her belly.


	6. The Texting Begins

Do Not Disturb was a blessing of a setting when it came to modern technology, because Caroline just knew that she wouldn't be able to get any real sleep once Tyler found out that she had left their apartment. She was able to organize her route to work and set her alarm while remaining blissfully unaware of whatever little text bombardment he would undoubtedly be sending.

That being said, at lunchtime, she absolutely had to turn her phone back into a regular mode. She had things that needed doing, and she just couldn't ignore the rest of the world forever.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

"Sorry," she offered the customers sitting on the next table over.

"You must be popular," quipped the woman.

"Yeah," she laughed, and switched the phone onto silent. Her mom had sent a customary catch-up email that morning, her Facebook had been tagged by Bonnie in three different star sign posts that related to her Virgo rising (whatever that meant). Klaus had sent her one text that snuck in there with the influx from Tyler, and she carefully opened it first.

Klaus: Good morning. I'll be out until around about 2. I'm going to get some groceries on my way home... do you like stir fry?

 _Oh my god,_ she thought, blinking at the innocent message. _Is he like, an actual angel?_

Caroline: I love stir fry! But you don't have to make anything for me, I'll fend for myself!

Caroline: That is why you're asking right?

Caroline: Because I can also make YOU the stir-fry?

He replied as more of Tyler's messages buzzed in her hand.

Klaus: Yes I was offering, no you won't fend for yourself, and you can make me one at another time. What time shall we eat?

Her smile was wide and the swell of warmth in her chest a little bit golden. She hadn't been fed by someone else in like, a long time. She had kind of dominated the kitchen because she loved to cook, but, cooking spoke to a sense of home and comfort. That someone else would make the effort? Freaked her out. In a good way!

Caroline: It's totally up to you?

Caroline: Can I get anything for you? Something to drink?

Klaus: Did you forget I have a fully stocked bar? :)

Caroline: Yes. Do you have a sweet tooth? I can bake!

Klaus: You don't need to bake, I've got it covered. I hope you like cookies and cream ice cream.

Caroline: OMG stop being so perfect. It's sickening. I have to get you something, you're being so nice to me. Just tell me what you like.

Klaus: Company is good. What time are you done from work?

Caroline: Like 4, and I'll get to yours by 4:30?

Klaus: Perfect. I'll see you then love :)

Caroline: See you then :)

Beaming, she sipped her coffee and couldn't get the giddy, dumb girl grin off her face. This guy - what a guy! Ice cream? And he cooked! And he had the accent!! Just - like - woah.

"He must be something special," the man said to her fondly, getting up from his table. He linked his weathered hands with his partner's, and shot her a fond little grin. "I remember you used to smile like that at me."

"Then you got old," she accused, but it was warm and with good humor enough that Caroline laughed, shrugged a sheepish shoulder, and ducked her head to look at the word _love_ on her screen.

Ooh. She was... getting pretty into that, pretty damn quick.

To her mother, she sent a short email explaining that she would call later to catch her up on everything. Maybe on the weekend - when no one else could hear the complete breakdown she was going to have when she explained what had been done. No one would get under her iron clad armor until her mother did, and so she would hold off on the tears and the pain until she could shoulder it with someone who could take it.

Sipping her coffee, she liked Bonnie's Facebook comments and then bravely swiped into her texts, getting out of Klaus' to get into Tyler's before she could think about chickening out.

There was a startling discrepancy between messages _before_ and _after_ Tyler clearly got home and saw she had moved her things. Phase One of trying to win Caroline back had always started with relentless messages.

Tyler: I've just dropped by a special place and I've got you a little something. It's just a little something to show you that I don't want any one else, ever. Only you <3

Tyler: I love you so much, Caroline. I love you more than any one else in the world. I love all your flaws and all your crazy.

Tyler: I can't stand to think of losing you. It makes me sick to think of living in a world that doesn't have you in it. Who else would ever take care of me like you do? There isn't a woman alive with your patience for my bullshit :)

Then there it was. The forty minute break. Enough time for him to finish his shopping and get back to a recently plundered apartment, check that her important things were gone, and get back on his phone.

Tyler: You're really scaring me now.

Tyler: Where is all your stuff?

Missed Call from Tyler.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Tyler: Answer the phone.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Tyler: Answer the fucking phone, Caroline.

Tyler: I'm not mad

Tyler: I'm just freaking out.

Tyler: Did you move your stuff out?

Tyler: How am I going to afford the rent?

Tyler: Caroline this isn't fair. There's been a misunderstanding, babe. Hayley is insane and she means less than nothing to me. You're my entire world. Why would I throw that away?

Missed Call from Tyler.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Missed Call from Tyler.

Tyler: Okay I get it

Tyler: You're a strong independent woman and you're not talking to me, that's fine

Tyler: But I know you're reading these

Tyler: So I get a chance to explain myself.

Tyler: I never cheated on you with my heart. Everything was physical. And the only reason I did that was because you are always working so hard, and there are days you come home and can't even stand up in the shower.

Tyler: I know, and you know, that you and I are meant to be together forever. This is just the last little bump in the road.

Tyler: If you come back home to me tomorrow, I'm gonna pretend none of this ever happened. I don't want to look at other women again.

Tyler: I've learned my lesson.

Tyler: But if you aren't going to talk to me, and you aren't going to come home, I'm just gonna assume that you and I are done, and I mean it, Caroline.

Tyler: You will lose me forever.

Tyler: And then what?

Tyler: What will you do?

Tyler: No one will be able to ever love you the way I do. You're crazy.

Tyler: You are going to throw away true love over a tiny bump in our road. It's not like you haven't made mistakes before, or tried to drive me away with how you act.

Tyler: I'm still ready to work on this, but if you're gonna act like a child and try and ignore me, I don't think I want to.

Tyler: Good night, Caroline. I miss and love you so so much. Please call me tomorrow.

Then that morning, about the time her alarm usually went off and make him grunt and rub his face back into his pillow:

Tyler: Good morning baby. I love you.

Tyler: I can't wait to hear from you.

Tyler: Have a beautiful day :)

"Thanks," she said, under her breath, exiting his message. She put her phone in her bag and got out of the little seat, lifting her chin to square off at the universe. "I will."


	7. The Band-Aid

"Caroline," Klaus called with a glimmer of warmth from the kitchen. She had only barely opened the door - his hearing was incredible. "How was your day?"

Caroline... wasn't sure how to speak. Only because she couldn't physically avoid him, she clicked into the apartment and nodded absently, her eyes tracking his bare feet as he padded the kitchen area.

"I like my key," she offered in a small way, feeling the urge to smile. It was very wobbly. She looked up at him, her chest tight and eyes hot, but she could at least try to smile. "I think pugs are cute so you missed the mark on making it ugly."

He froze looking at the nausea on Caroline's face, a hand braced against his sternum like he'd been shot. All the movement in him went in a _snap_ , and suddenly she could see how this guy could be potentially really intimidating.

"Alright, love?"

Swallowing a hard mouthful, Caroline eyed her phone like it contained the plague, and locked the device with a determined little click. She gifted him with a smile that she summoned by sheer force of will.

"I will be. Sorry. How are you?"

His brow drew in.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he murmured. He padded to the other side of the island, eyes sweeping her pallor and the clutch of her bag in her hand. "What's wrong? Something's happened."

"Yeah," she admitted. Shakily, she drew in a fortifying breath. "Your security is uh, really good."

Sharp eyes narrowed on her face.

"Did someone behave roughly with you?"

"Uhm," she said, and rubbed her lips together. "Not-! Not your people. No, they... they're really good. They did a- a good... They're uh, really good at their jobs. Rick and Daisha, I think their name tags said."

Very slowly, she took a seat on the stool at his island counter, and eased her bag off her shoulder. It plodded to the ground and she turned her eyes down after it, wondering if there was anything breakable in there.

"Caroline?" he asked softly. So softly. Genuine concern cut his every vowel, and wrapped around her ears like a kitten's tail. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm okay."

Exhaling, she laced her shaky hands together in her lap, but there was... blood... Her hand was bleeding. She looked at the three strips that Tyler's biting nails had torn out of her flesh, and then blinked at the dotted trail she had left on the white tile.

Judging by Klaus' sharp intake of air, he noticed too.

"Christ, you're _bleeding_ -!" he swore, right as she blurted: "I can clean that up!"

When she popped down from the stool her knees didn't particularly feel like holding her up so she crumpled to the floor in a heap. Her ankle said _ow_ , but her pride said _get up_. Lifting her bloody hand to the corner of the bench, she felt her lower lip trembling and hastened to stiffen it as Klaus came very slowly around the corner, showing her his hands.

"I'm okay," she told him, nodding to herself. She put her hand over her ankle and cringed. "Ow. Okay. That - that ankle's not okay, but I'm - oh, I'm getting blood all over the floor, and my stockings are ruined..."

"Can I see your hand?" he asked, sinking to his knees. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Blinking, she looked up at him, trying to place an answer to his question. She felt pretty sore, but her emotions were doing a lot to dampen her logical train of thought. It was like asking her to identify a single voice at a rave.

"I'm sorry I got blood on the floor," she said, round-eyed and sad. "I can clean it."

To her surprise, that seemed to do a little bit to reboot his brain. He carefully got onto one knee and then sat on his butt, hands stiff and unnatural as he put them on the ground.

"I'm not worried about the blood," he told her roughly, honestly. "I get blood off the floor all the time. Shall I call a friend for you, Caroline?"

"I don't have any of those," she replied breathily. "I - I mean, there's Hayley..."

"Hayley might be able to help," he agreed. "Help you get into a shower and have a bit of a cry and a cuddle, or something."

"I'm not-" she screwed up her face. "I don't do that."

"Why not?" he murmured. "Isn't that what girls do? My sister has the routine patented."

"I don't do that," she insisted. "I'm fine."

"Well, if you wanted to, you'd be more than entitled. You've had an awful few days."

"If I cried about every bad day I've ever had, I'd never stop," she grumbled, giving her ankle a rub. "I don't need to cry, or cuddle, and I especially don't need that with Hayley. I need a shower, but my ankle hurts."

"Get out of those bloody shoes," he told her softly. "You'll roll it again."

Clumsily, she tried to organize herself to get at the buckle without flashing him the underside of her skirt. In the end, she just offered both legs to him, and he was the one that skillfully slid the tongue out of the clasp, deftly angling her heels over her swollen foot.

"Needs ice," he muttered. "And rest. You can borrow my crutches."

"You just have spare crutches lying around?"

"My line of work doesn't bode well for an already dodgy knee," he said, and eyed her bleeding hand. "I'm also going to insist on getting that cleaned and looked at before you do anything else. May I do it?"

"Are you good at First Aid?" she wondered.

"Yes." He didn't miss a beat. "Since I was small. Shall I help you up?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so," she said, a little unsure. "I don't... really know what just happened. I think I was just attacked."

"I think you might've been. It's alright. You're safe here," he assured her.

She believed him. If not for the security prowling the ins and outs of the building, for the several YouTube videos she'd watched on Mute last night, seeing the way he fortified and decimated the people who stood against him in the octagon.

Caroline put both her knees over his offered forearm and braced herself around his shoulders, gulping quietly.

"Aren't I heavy?" she wanted to know.

"Not really."

He stood without even a puff of exertion, the only strain she felt in the line of his swollen biceps. He carried her to the couch and was careful to lay her out on it, adjusting a pillow under her foot until there wasn't much pain. He was back with a white kit with a red cross on it from the kitchen, taking her torn hand in his with such delicacy she felt like she was made of glass.

"My ex," she said, in way of explanation. "Showed up to my work. He cornered me on the way out. I told him we were over. He didn't like that. When he started to make a scene I walked out on him. He followed me here."

Klaus' fantastic, usually very full lips, pinched together.

"This'll sting," he warned her, and gently applied the antiseptic.

Her fingers curled around the meat of his palm and she squeezed, but he only squeezed back and held on. He dabbed the area, inspecting every ridge of hastily pulled skin, and flicked his eyes up at her.

"He tried to drag you somewhere."

"Yeah," she said. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I do," he told her quietly.

"I can just put a bandaid on it," she went on. "This is taking up so much of your time - I'm sorry I-"

"Caroline," he said, clear as a bell. "Stop apologizing. I'm not letting you tend this yourself. The boy was out of line, and you deserve to be at least a little looked after. When I'm done with this I'll get you ice for your ankle, and then I'll make you dinner. Do you want a glass of wine?"

"Wine?" she repeated, and gave him a somewhat hysterical laugh. "Wine is for fun, and relaxing. I need a _real_ drink. Will you have one with me?"

Grinning wolfishly, he checked every single one of his teeth, and the stiff line of his shoulders went down at least an inch.

"If the lady insists," he told her.


	8. The Sleepover

There was just... no likely way... she was going to get up again. Her head-... Her poor head.

Everything hurt.

But that fucking insistent buzzing! It needed to be stopped.

Cracking open one eye, Caroline discovered her phone had half buzzed itself off the side table. She reached out and lifted it to see Tyler (12 Missed Calls) and (26 Messages) lighting up the screen. It was nearly midnight, and she turned airplane mode on, putting her head back down and shutting her eye ruefully.

"Thank God," Klaus muttered into the back of her hair. She didn't have the energy to be surprised by it. "Any more fuckin' messages and that thing would've taken a dive off my balcony."

She hummed, stroking the hair on his forearm into one smooth direction, the way she had when they had been falling asleep. Since neither of them had made it to the shower or their bedrooms, the low light of the silent TV showed her his wristwatch - the round gleam of reflected light doing little to soothe her sore head.

"I'm gonna get us water and painkillers," she said around a yawn.

"The good stuff is on top of the fridge," he said lazily. "I'll get it. You won't be able to reach."

"And then I need to shower," she rationalized.

"You can't stand on that ankle," he cautioned.

"I'll be fine," she tried.

"You'll be fine because you can't stand on it," he retorted. "You’ll slip and hurt yourself if you walk. I'll put a chair in there you can sit on."

"No! Your chairs are wood - they'll get wrecked-!"

"They're old," he muttered. His arm tightened around her waist, and the affectionate nosing at the nape of her neck made her tightening body relax a little. "Please don't argue with me. Unless you can hop all that way, just let me put a chair in there."

"No," she said. "Nu uh, not happening, not a fan of ruining gorgeous furniture on the off chance I slip. It's just twisted - it'll be fine once I get some of those painkillers."

"Caroline," he grumbled. "Don't think I won't carry you in there and make sure you're not standing on it myself."

"Do it," she retorted.

The dare was out of her mouth before she could even think about the potential climate between them - something weird had processed in her brain while they had snuggled on the couch, marking the guy as _Safe_.

And like, she had seen how much booze he had packed away, so maybe she shouldn't have been altogether too surprised by the ensuing:

"I bloody well _will_."

As it turned out, she did need a shower, a bit of a cry and a cuddle, but Klaus ended up being there for the trifecta.

He helped her undress and pulled his clothes off hurriedly to get in under the water with her, the both of them still a little woozy and snickering as slippery bodies aligned.

So what if her hands appreciated his arms? All those veins. And his taut belly just needed a little attention, didn't it? Plus, that soap wasn't gonna draw love hearts over his shoulders by itself. 

He was having a wild time skimming over her waist and staring boldly at her boobs, licking his lips when she settled his cupped hands over the full swell of each mound with a sly smirk of permission. He seemed pretty content to handle them in the slow, massage like way he was, until she put his hand on her ass and leaned into him, slinging her arms around his neck.

"Happy now?" she asked him, sugar sweet.

"How's your ankle?" he teased.

"I can't even feel my feet," she beamed, and trailed her fingers over his tattoo, followed by a bubbly path of soap.

They didn't even kiss. Just touched each other. Admired. Caressed. She was a little turned on, and he was definitely on the way, but no hands crossed the boundary line of the no-no square, and no one seemed particularly aggrieved by that fact.

They crashed into his bed after a hasty one-towel pat down, and cuddled up together. She made a little hollow for herself under his chin, secure in his arms. Though she ordinarily would've cried with a pillow muffling the noise - knowing that Tyler had physically hurt her, would rather her bleed than choose to leave him - only a few burning tears leaked over her cheeks.

"You alright, love?" Klaus murmured in his low, pleasing voice.

"I didn't even hit him," she grumbled. "He really hurt me and I never even lifted a hand to him."

"Do you love him, maybe?" he wondered softly.

"If I did, not anymore. I think he's a habit."

He hummed, trailing his knuckles across her shoulders.

"I think I know a little about that," he murmured. "Expecting that a person is going to end up in your life for no other reason than they spent all their time fouling it up."

"Not everything," she corrected softly. Her fingers tapped a beat against the tattoo on his shoulder, dizzy eyes barely able to make out the shape. "It didn't start off bad."

"They usually don't," he agreed.

It wasn't really her place to pry, but he was like - getting a lot out of her that her sober mind wouldn't have otherwise offered. A part of her brain was really surprised at how comfortable he was to lay all over, as she'd known him less than forty eight hours. It was in that comfort that she asked:

"Did you have a bad romantic thing?"

His chest inflated under her ear.

"The woman in the painting by the door," he grumbled, lungs deflating with a huge sigh. "Aurora. My first girlfriend. I was sure I'd marry her."

"What happened?"

The shoulder opposite her gave a lazy shrug.

"I broke the habit of her," he said mildly.

"Does it still hurt?" she wondered. Then, almost jokingly: "Will I always feel like I should be carrying a gun?"

His body had been pliant under her, but went tense in the few seconds it took for her words to process in his mind. His hand never stilled from rubbing her shoulders.

"You said he'd never hit you?" he recalled.

"No, never." She swallowed. "Pushing doesn’t count. I mean - the only stuff he threw around was like, my books and things. Never at me, so I was like, mostly fine. But... I... I don't know. I just-... I never wanted to hurt him."

"Do you want to hurt him now?"

Slowly, Caroline lifted her head and propped her chin on his chest. She traced the many interesting lines of him with the barest hint of her finger, eyes fixed to the bandage that Klaus had laid on her hand so carefully.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," she said finally. "I just want to feel safe."

"You're safe here," he vowed, not for the first time. She wholly believed him, without him explaining: "I've extra security coming tomorrow morning explicitly to patrol our areas, and an alert has been placed on suspicious persons in the building. Besides - if the bloke ever did show his mug here, I'd be well within my rights to knock it off his bloody head."

Her smile was faint, and she waited until some of the angry heat had left him lax and half-lidded, watching her study him in the low blue light of his alarm clock.

"Do you think you could ever hurt me?" she asked him simply.

He took her wounded hand and kissed her knuckles, pointedly avoiding her eyes. When each joint had been kissed, her pressed her palm to the curve of his cheek, and managed to look at her through half lidded eyes.

"I couldn't ever."

A touch of a smile graced her lips. It was honestly so touching that he took such a random question seriously. Like, there they were, tits and balls out, and he had training to destroy an opponent - but Caroline could see in his face that he was harmless.

Well, harmless to her.

"I feel like I know you," she told him, gently extracting her hand. Drunk on the feel of him, she smoothed the hairs of his eyebrow down and tucked around him more boldly. "I feel like I know you'd never hurt me. And I - I would never let anyone hurt you, either. I don't know. I just feel like-"

"Like we've met before?" he guessed. A tender kiss was pressed against the crown of her head. "Me too. I thought I knew you when you walked into the coffee shop. I had been staring for ages trying to figure out where from. I thought you'd come over to tell me off."

"I didn't know you were staring, I was too busy with the list," she said with a tiny giggle. Her eyes shut, and she nuzzled closer to his chest, feeling his arm tighten around her in a brief hug. "I don't know if I believe in past lives or alternate universes or whatever, but I know what I know. And I feel like you're the best luck I've ever had."

His swallow was loud enough that she heard it travel down his throat.

"Likewise," he said softly, and pressed a small kiss to her head to bid her goodnight.


	9. The Texting Continues

Klaus: Good morning love <3 Gone to the gym early. You kick in your sleep lol

Caroline: SHUT UP I DO NOT

Klaus: 100% 

Caroline: Whatever Sir Snores A Lot

Klaus: How very dare you, I do not snore

Caroline: You sounded like a bloodhound in my ear

Klaus: I am not a snorer

Caroline: You are when you're drunk

Klaus: I wasn't that drunk

Caroline: You were drunk enough to get in the shower with a perfect stranger you slut

Klaus: Stones in glass houses you little tart, you did too XD

Caroline couldn't help but giggle, having to actively put her phone down flat on her chest and cover her mouth, eyes shut to the pounding headache she'd stirred awake with. Rubbing her eye with a fist, she took a quick selfie of the smear of makeup that made her look like a raccoon, and made a show of stretching out in his bed with the blankets over her boobs.

Caroline: Well this little tart has a King size bed all to herself for like another whole hour so fuuuuuck you :)

Klaus: Honestly if I could've been there I would've, but my gym won't run itself :( You might kick but you smell nice and you're an excellent cuddler

Caroline: More than I can say for you Bony McBonerson!!!

He sent back a single emoji of a middle finger.

She eventually rolled out of his bed to get ready, not thinking too hard about anything. Seeing as she had so much time, she made the bed and tidied the kitchen of the mess he'd made cooking dinner from the night before, getting five minutes spare to indulge in a coffee from the fancy machine.

Unfortunately, as a modern woman, her ritual was to have a coffee and then check her phone.

(26 Missed Calls) and (48 Messages) from Tyler.

"Oh for the love of fuck," she said briskly, and shut her eyes. Was it worth checking? No. Probably not.

Last night, security had asked her if she wanted him arrested - she had numbly said no. A reflex, probably. A stupid habit she was looking forward to breaking.

Still, there wasn't enough time to read all those messages - it could wait. It would have to wait. Caroline hadn't been late to her job since she started, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now.

On her way out of the apartment, she stopped by the art hanging on the wall, her eyes roaming the naked body of the lonely dancer with context behind the image – this ex of her new friend, and how she was still hanging around in his life, right next to his door. The first thing he saw when he came home, and the last thing he saw when he left.

The red of her hair was fun. The movement was still beautiful, written in the flow of the skirt.

But the black, empty space around her was a self-made void. Cold. Dark. It was as though her spin had pushed away anything else that should've been, leaving only herself in the wake of her own movement. There was smugness about her body, inviting but callous; something very haunting about her facelessness.

A shiver raced over her spine and Caroline shook it out, clicking toward the door to lock it soundly behind her, leaving Klaus' ex dancing alone in the hallway.

The talent was still in the acrylic, but the beauty was only surface deep.

* * *

On her lunch break, she read:

Tyler: I can't believe you would do this to me

Tyler: who the fuck is he

Tyler: who lives here

Tyler: I can't even get into the building

Tyler: who even are you???

Tyler: Have you been fucking letting us struggle for so long and you secretly have a fucking fortune you didn't tell me about???

Tyler: do you know I'm legally entitled to half?

Tyler: My mom told me that I can take you for half. We've been together so long that everything is split if you decide to stay away from me

Tyler: I just wanted to fucking talk to you and you start making a fucking scene and get some two bit thugs to handle me

Tyler: I've got mom's lawyer on the line FYI

Tyler: There goes your precious fucking Miss mystic imagine, huh

Tyler: I wonder what everyone back home will say when I tell them youre a fucking whore

Tyler: maybe they'll take down your name from that stupid fucking plaque

Tyler: You petty fucking slut

Tyler: Who the fuck do you know that I never met

Tyler: Who lives in that fucking building

Tyler: I'm entitled to half of everything you have even if you've been keeping it from me

Tyler: I'm just saying

Tyler: there's two ways this is gonna go, Caroline

Tyler: I can drag you to the fucking ground and take everything I'm legally entitled to

Tyler: or you can meet me at the apartment and talk to me like a grown up.

Tyler: I want you back. 

Tyler: I made a mistake.

Tyler: It won't happen again.

Tyler: If you make this hard on us, then I'm getting the cops involved for battery and to take what's rightfully mine out of your bank account

Tyler: It can be easy if you make it easy

Tyler: Think about that from the top of that fucking high tower you've put yourself in.

It went on and on and on in a similar vein. Very 'I'm a tough boy and I mean business' chic, with just a sprinkle of: 'Honestly I'm doing you a favor because you're not worth being loved by anyone else'.

Caroline thought it was kind of funny, but mostly sad, followed by slightly enraging. He hadn't spoken a word to how he had literally drawn blood trying to drag her to his truck (of which the debt was in her name), or how he had screamed profanities at her that had made her knees shake.

No incentive to lure her back. No words to how he was the bad guy. No apologies.

She expected it would change to sweet and full of dreamy promises by the end of the day the way he normally did when he was trying to coax her back into the apartment. She put her phone on silent and got back to work with an outward look of indifference on her face.

Inside, however, her heart was beating out of time, and her stomach was in knots.

Would he try to come back to her work and drag her away, now that Klaus' security weren't standing by? Would anyone be able to stop him? Would he wake up out of his sulk and manage to stop himself?

Would she feel like she had to hang off Klaus' arm forever?


	10. The Press

When lunch rolled around, Caroline took a cup of coffee and her phone and locked herself in the ladies' bathroom. Seeing as Tyler knew the places she might go around that time, she didn't want to risk it.

At least if he came to the office, there would be video footage of anything he might do.

Closing the lid, she crossed her legs and leaned back on the tank, letting her head _thunk_ against the top of the toilet, shutting her eyes against the bright lights for a long moment.

What came next?

Would she keep living with Klaus, even though they had some intense tension between them? Or did she want to live by herself? Or did she want to live somewhere else, so she could better pursue the thing with Klaus?

That guy... was just... something else.

Was it maybe because he was nice, and Tyler was being so horrible? It crossed her mind that anyone could've made her feel that way, but it was quickly crossed out as an option. It certainly didn't feel like a regular thing she could share with just anybody. There was some unspoken emotional thread between them that felt _good_ and _strong_.

Caroline had missed it. Feeling connected. Her social life had become narrower and narrower by the week when she'd moved from Mystic Falls - she had gone from being a town Beauty Queen, beloved head cheerleader, socialite, and party-planner extraordinaire to...

Any other adult.

When had it happened? Hard to say. It wasn't entirely Tyler's fault, either - she could wear some of the blame for the lack of friends and fun. But he certainly hadn't helped, what with her girlfriends all getting boyfriends that he 'didn't trust'.

With a rueful sigh, she opened her eyes and looked down at her phone, ignoring the messages to get into her Facebook. She had scrolled exactly one time before Klaus' name popped up on her screen next to a green and a red button.

Of course, she swiped the green before the first buzz had died.

"Hey," she said brightly, surprised to hear how excited she was. "I was just thinking about you. What would you like for dinner tonight? My treat."

"I'll buy you dinner," he said hurriedly. "Have you been on your social media today?"

"I was just about to, why?"

There was a calm, rolling voice on his end, sounding advisory and firm. Another voice said something too far for the receiver to pick up, and Klaus' rubbed his face so hard she couldn't hear the calm voice reply over his scratchy prickles.

"I will start by saying I am sorry," he said slowly. "And the good news is, everything can likely be taken down in a matter of hours."

"What can be taken down?" she wondered, blinking at the back of the stall door. She sat forward, heel clicking on the tile. "Wait, that's 'good' news?"

He hummed in agreement, the noise coming out strangled.

"The bad news is," he said slowly. "My ex hacked my phone, and the photo you sent me this morning is all over the tabloids."

"What photo?" she said, scrunching her nose.

"The photo of you in my bed," he murmured. "With a sheet over your chest."

A whole three seconds passed before it dawned on her what he was referring too. The picture of her with raccoon eyes and humidity frizzed up hair? Naked. In his bed. Grinning ear to ear at the camera, with one eye shut?

That photo?

"Okay," she said slowly. "When you say 'tabloids', what do you mean?"

"The vultures," he muttered, somehow lower than before. He listed a few names that she knew from various newsstands - generally shitty gossip rags that weren't exactly known for their journalistic integrity.

"Why would she do that?" she asked him, blinking stupidly at the gleam on the lock of the stall door. "Are you-? Is this the dancing girl from the painting, ex? Aurora?"

The noise he made on the end of his line was vaguely agreeable. The other people on his end were starting to bicker in the background, but Klaus said nothing, just breathing heavily as he waited for her to speak.

"Is it really bad for you?" she winced. "The publicity?"

"God no," he scoffed. "I've had worse. I'm worried about _you_. It can feel so invasive, to have you privacy shared like that. And I promised you that you were safest with me, yet I couldn't protect you from this."

"You're a celebrity," she said evenly. Even though she was completely mortified of what people would say - what they'd see - what they would deduce from such a raunchy image. "I'm not upset. It wasn't your fault. Are you okay?"

"I'm-" He blew out a stream of air. "No."

"Especially because it's her, huh?" she guessed.

"It's spitting on the raw wound, yes," he grumbled. "I'm so sick of the games. I thought I was done with her. I don't have a clue how she knew the password to my cloud."

"Well maybe it wasn't her that knew it. Is there anyone else that would know the password, or want to do something like this?"

For a moment, he thought. Then she heard a sharp intake of breath, and he said: "hang on a moment, love, I'll call you straight back."

"Okay?" she said, a little bewildered.

The call ended, and she was back on her Facebook. Just in time to see the headline from the Daily Falls, accompanied by her photo:

_MISS MYSTIC: KNOCKOUT_

Her brain must've been super fucking hungover that morning, because she had clearly not taken a look at the photo she had sent. She enlarged the imagine, seeing a healthy amount of boob over spilling the top of the sheet, her nose scrunched, hair a rat's nest, and the 'cute smudge of mascara' actually looked like a black eye...

Which was apparently the angle that the article was going for.

_'A former native Miss Mystic, pictured here with the remains of her injuries after suffering severe physical abuse at the hands of world class MMA fighter Klaus Mikealson._

_In the image above, a tired and bleary eyed young woman sends the requested evidence to prove she is still in bed where her attacker left her earlier._

_Her face is screwed up in pain. On the hand keeping her modesty, a bloodied bandage, possibly from a prior injury. What's most intolerable is the eye that is swollen shut from bruising, marring her otherwise pretty face._

_Mikealson apparently keeps a strict regimen and narrow inner circle; one that our very own Miss Mystic has challenged in recent weeks. For her attempts to tame this vicious beast, she has earned no less than a broken collar bone, damaged liver, more blood noses than can be counted, and two separate trips to the emergency ward with extensive injuries. Not to mention the many injuries in between going unseen and unrecorded._

_Pictured above is the remains of a beating she received when an admirer of Mikealson's asked her to obtain an autograph in his name, and the notoriously infamous fighter flew into a fit of jealousy. Taking his rage out on Miss Mystic's fine features means that she'll be kept at his apartment, hidden out of sight of the public, until she can bravely face the world with no visible marks._

_The leak of the photo comes from a concerned member of Mikealson's former inner circle - someone who knows firsthand what his bad temper looks like._

_'He's an animal,' writes our informant, who wishes to remain anonymous to protect their name. 'She's an incredibly sweet girl. I've seen what he's capable of towards people that aren't trained in combative sports and my god... It makes what he does professionally look like child's play._

_There's a reason he's ranked top five in the world in his field. Martial arts is a sport, but he doesn't treat it that way. He treats it like getting paid to do what he already loves doing - hurting people, and getting away with it._

_I couldn't force him to change when we were speaking, but I wish I had. To the girl in the photo - I am so sorry this happened to you. But it doesn't have to be like this. You can get out. You just need to be brave enough to try.'_

_If you or anyone else you know is suffering from an abusive partner, please contact-'_

Klaus' name popped up on her screen and Caroline swiped it open hard, slapping it against her face.

"There's an article making it sound like you beat me up," she blurted. He swore. Her stomach was churning, and her eyes were wide. How had someone lied about this? "With my makeup smudged it - it does kinda look like a black eye?"

"Black eyes don't look like that," he muttered. "Which magazine?"

She told him, quickly sending him the link before cramming the phone back between her ear and shoulder. She listened to the sounds on the end of his line, distinguishing him putting her on loudspeaker and tapping at his device.

"I'll have them hung out to dry," he said faintly. "Elijah, I'm sending you another one I'll need prosecuted for defamation. Thank you."

"Is it bad?" she asked, already feeling the answer.

"Somewhat." For a long moment, he said nothing. "If people think I'm violent toward women, I'll likely lose my sponsors and the support of the fans. They may ban me from competing."

"That's what she wanted?” Caroline guessed. At his low noise of grievance, she pursed her lips. A flare of heat sparked in her soul like she hadn't felt in ages - injustice would always get her riled. "To make you lose your job?"

"No, it likely won't lose me the job," he amended. "But the sponsors might withdraw. It'll take years to heal the wounds that have just been ripped into my image."

"Nope," she said flatly. "Sorry, but no. Not gonna happen. Your ex is not going to get the best of you, do you understand me?"

"It won't be anything I can't recover from," he attempted to sound cool and collected, but he was heated and she damn well knew it. "Once the story hits mainstream, the media would pile on top of it for a couple months, but they'll find something bigger and badder than me to poke a stick at eventually. I've waged this war before. Don't worry about it, love. It'll be alright."

"Yeah it will," she said confidently. "Because the difference between the war before and the one now? Is that you have _me_. I'm a former beauty queen from the judgiest small town in America - I can handle media gossips. Give me five minutes, and I'll call you back."

He started to say her name, but she hung up on him.

Instagram was first. She searched his name in the bar and found a mixed bag of results - the story had only broken semi-recently, so most posts were about his victories, his inspirational quotes, some dieting advice, and a handful of workouts. Speckled in and around the top results was the picture of her own face, so she clicked it with a meaningful stab of her thumb.

The first tag alone was enough to make her mouth twist in frustration.

#KMikealsonIsOver 

"Oh boy," she muttered under her breath. She sipped her coffee for a boost, and tapped the link.

Under the hashtag sprawled a bunch of shitty posts - most of her 'bruised' face, accompanied by things like #NotAllMen or #Abuse. Following the rabbit hole eventually unearthed a handful of common tags that she quickly jotted into her notes app, then fluffed her hair, angled the phone, and hit record.

"Hi," she said with a cheerful wave. "I'm the girl in the picture that Klaus Mikealson apparently beat up? Yeah. Not a thing that happened! Fake news, everybody!"

She tipped her head to let her cheekbone catch the light and show off her unblemished skin, turning her winner's beaming smile up a notch. Her hair moved to one side of her shoulder, falling dramatically to the side in an artful wave.

"I just need to make something really clear: Klaus is an _actual_ angel. He's done more for me in the last forty eight hours than most people have done for me in like, years. He's generous, and fun, and warm, and kind. I have never felt safer with anyone in my entire life!" she said earnestly, her smile no longer fake.

The rage in her towards the unknown ex had faded into true fondness for her new friend. It was _easy_ to wax poetic about a man who had been uncommonly good to her in what was nearly the hardest time of her life.

"So the next time a few of you shitty journalists want to write gossipy-trash articles about things that never happened, how about you take five seconds to talk to your makeup wearing friends about what smudged mascara looks like when you sleep in it?" She tuned her voice to be sickly sweet, going as far as to bat her lashes like a Disney princess for the camera. "Or better yet, do some actual fucking research instead of blindly believing everything you're told? You know, like it's your job to do? But what would I know, I'm just 'former Miss Mystic Falls'."

With a very pretty smile, she tilted her head to show off the eye that had been blackened that morning. She wiped at her foundation with a single forefinger to prove that there was nothing underneath it, purely based on what she'd look for if she were the viewer, and not the subject.

She twinkled her fingers at the camera, blew a kiss, and clicked the button to stop recording. With no filter attached, Caroline loaded all the common tags under the caption:

LOL JOURNALISM IS A JOKE

And then sent it out into the universe. She spread it to each of her social medias in rapid succession, then made sure that each one had correctly taken to the platforms.

Then, and only then, did she call Klaus back.

"I feel better now," she told him, zen. "How are you?"

"Worried," he admitted quietly. "Were you upset?"

"I was mad, but mostly on your behalf. Your ex is kind of a piece of work, huh?" When he didn't answer, she quickly changed the subject. "What can I do to make you less worried?"

"Not much," he told her gently. "It's a waiting game at this point. I've been in touch with the commissions board and they are going to have a meeting later today about where they stand with me. My fate is in their hands."

"Luck," she said decidedly. "Good luck brought me to you on the shittiest day of my adult life, Klaus. You'll get it back, I promise. Don't worry about fate - luck is the lady tonight."

"She's never my lady," he murmured, in a slightly better humor. He paused. "I think I'll order us in something sea food, tonight. What do you like?"

It was a poor attempt to steer the conversation away from things like fate or luck, and she realized that he was in need of distraction, so she latched onto the subject of food with both hands and kept him talking for another solid twenty minutes until his voice sounded passingly normal.

By the time she got off the phone, her coffee was stone cold, her legs were numb, and her break had been over for close to half an hour.

But as luck would have it, no one had noticed her absence.


	11. The Second Night

"Hey," she said, craning her head around the corner to see Klaus ambling in through the front door, already smiling softly at her. She returned the smile. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Aside from my management tying up the saga with the photo, the gym still has some growing pains that needed tending to," he admitted.

“Is it a lot of things?” she wondered.

“It’s just the staff getting the lay of the land.” Eyes raked her face, then the two glasses of wine standing full by her hand, before a smile spread on his face. He dumped his bag by the counter and pulled himself up onto the stool next to her. "You didn't have a bad day, then?"

The laugh that bubbled from her lips was easy and real. He was a quick learner.

Wine = Fun.

Booze = Bad.

"No, it's was pretty standard. Busy." With a carefully airy shrug, she cranked up her smile and passed him a glass by the stem. Keeping busy was good for her, after all. It made her many thoughts quiet and her shaky hands still. The scratches Tyler's nails had gouged into her skin were sore and scabby, re-wrapped under new dressings. Best to put that far from her mind. "Boring."

"You don't like your job?"

"Who likes their job?"

"I like mine alright," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah but- you know. Adulting is like, suffering through the trials of a mind numbing job with people you don't like to pay for stuff you couldn't have." She tilted her glass at him, and scrunched her nose. "And to afford the wine and dessert I just bought for us, but before you tell me off-!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He shut his mouth, pursing his lips in an amused way, and mimicked locking a key.

He was so ridiculous. It filled her chest with warm bubbles. Had nothing to do with the wine.

"I didn't want to assume I could just take all your drinks, and it's my turn to treat you. You don't have a choice - I'm going to be nice to you, and heads up: I'm a feeder." Brows raised, she waited for a rebuttal for half a second, then asked: "Do you liked baked pears?"

"Never had one, but it sounds a treat," he said warmly. The glass in his hand was twirled around thoughtfully, the wine tipping side to side gently. "You could've had something from the bar. I want you to feel welcome to anything in the house, love. You can make yourself at home."

"And I do, but I'm also not taking advantage of that all the time." She swirled her glass at him, raising her brows. "I'm not a leech. You're too good to me already. Just say 'thank you, Caroline', and we'll call it a day."

"Thank you Caroline," he echoed.

Offering her glass, they touched the fine rims together with a pleasing _ting_ , and sipped.

"Do you like it?" she asked him.

"It's nice. Crisp. It'll go well with dinner," he said lightly, giving her a bemused little smile. "Can I help making the pears, at least?"

"No, you can go shower and take five," she instructed brightly.

"Do I smell?" he joked, lifting his shirt to inhale the neckline.

"You smelled good to me." She pulled all her hair to the side and tipped the glass to her lips, taking a fortifying sip of wine. Were they going to discuss boundaries?

Like...

Should they really be that comfortable together already? She honestly felt like she'd known him a lifetime already. He just had... something about him.

He seemed to realize her more somber train of thought, and his expressive face morphed into something a little more concerned. Ducking his eyes, he took a sip from his glass and considered it, rubbing his lips together a moment before he looked at her again.

"About last night," he murmured. "If I've made you uncomfortable, it wasn't my intention to do so. I'm a somewhat clingy drunk. It won't happen again."

"Uhm, hello, there were two of us on that couch," she pointed out. Heat filled her cheeks, but she didn't back down. "And in the shower. It made sense at the time. I actually don't have a problem with anything, unless..."

"Unless?" he prompted.

"Unless I made you uncomfortable?" she winced. "I was like, super grabby. And I should've just gone to my own bed, and not like, been all over you."

His throat bobbed around a swallow.

"I didn't mind an inch," he said quietly. "I was worried I'd overstepped."

"No," she assured him. "No, I'm also a clingy drunk. And I-... It's just - I just wanted to maybe talk about not... Like, maybe we shouldn't start anything..."

"We've only known each other two days," he agreed. "And living together can get messy."

"And the thing with my ex-" she pointed out. "I don't have closure on that. Starting anything right now wouldn't end well, and that's not fair to either of us."

"No, no, I wouldn't want you to rush the process. God knows how long it took me," he commented lightly. He gave her a soft smile. "Broke up with Aurora nearly two years ago, now. I never thought I'd feel anything other than unworthy."

"How long did it take you to feel...?" she started, but wasn't sure how to end it politely. "Sort of... Normal, again?"

"I'd say about two days ago," he said, with meaning. Studying her wash of surprise, he waited for the notion to sink in before he confirmed the implication. "When you sat across from me at the cafe, I had a sudden little thought to myself that if I truly were terrible, awful, and generally evil as I was made out to be, someone like you surely wouldn't seek my company."

_Someone like you?_

"You're not evil," she murmured.

"I have an awful temper," he told her honestly. "And I can behave rather terribly when I'm in a mood to be petty. I'm quite jealous, and slightly paranoid. Those are the highlights."

"Like with the security," she realized, and he nodded. "But I'm pretty sure that there are reasons for that, Klaus. Not that you need to tell me, but you're a famous guy, and even just to protect the house, security isn't a bad thing."

"Still the rest of the list in the ways I can be less than noble," he said with a half-cocked smile. "But I digress. My therapist tells me that I'm doing much better with management of my outbursts. I've never hit anyone in my household, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't." She was.

"It's alright. As comfortable as we are with each other, you don't actually know me. And I don't actually know you." He drained the rest of his glass with a satisfied little grin, and cut her a look from under his lashes. "Even though I intend to change that."

Smiling, she sipped her wine, watching him go to get a water out of the fridge. He drained it while she observed, admiring the lines of his throat without making any pretenses of being subtle. 

"Any news from the ex?" he said, so jarring to her system that her instinctive response was to flinch. All her smiles melted, and she put her eyes on the wine still in her glass.

"There have been texts all day, but I haven't read them," she said, and summoned a smile back to her face. "I haven't even looked at my phone. He's not that important."

"Uh huh. You're not fooling me, you know," he told her frankly. It was only softened by the very barest smile on his lips. "I can see you're hurt, love. If you wanted to talk, I'd be more than glad to listen."

Caroline inhaled through her nose.

"Maybe you do stink," she deflected. It was messy, but his calculating gaze turned a little softer as he understood it. She wasn't ready to be emotional with him, even if she had been vulnerable with him before.

"I do," he agreed, and rolled his eyes halfheartedly. "I'll be twenty minutes. Do you want to find something to watch?"

"Sure," she teased. "How do you like the Real Housewives?"

"Trash," he quipped, but didn't tell her he wouldn't watch it.


	12. The Text from Mom

With their bellies full and empty dessert plates going ignored on the coffee table, Caroline was sufficiently distracted from the days' pains. There were no thoughts of Tyler in her head, or her job, or anything of real consequence.

She and Klaus were just sitting together in a comfortable silence, watching trashy TV, and existing in the moment.

When her phone lit up, she almost didn't bother checking it. The barrage of texts had come and gone from Tyler's number in waves, but she had thought he would give up when she eventually hadn't opened any of them. It just so happened that a tiny flash of color caught her eye that marked the name as different.

Mom <3

Easily swiping it open, Caroline read and then re-read the words on her screen, going from relaxed and full to bolt upright in a second.

Mom: If you don't come to the door and answer me right now I'm kicking it down.

Caroline called her, getting up quickly from the couch and pressing the phone to her ear.

"Mom?" she said urgently. "Are you at my apartment?"

"Obviously," her mother said quickly. "Why aren't you opening the door?"

_Bang bang bang._

"Mom, no, I'm not there," she explained hastily. She made her way down the hall and shut her bedroom door behind her, sinking onto her blow up mattress. It had deflated significantly, and one of her knees hit the floor with a thud.

"Where are you?" Liz pressed. "Are you alright? I saw the paper and I came straight here-"

"And you couldn't call ahead?!" she demanded. "Jesus mom, the paper was lying, I'm totally fine-"

"I'll believe that when I see you. When the hell did you shack up with the boxer?"

"He's not a boxer, he's an MMA fighter," she corrected. "First of all: I haven't 'shacked up' with him, and second of all: it's gross that you said it that way, so ew."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Liz pressed.

"I've been busy, and I was going to tell you what was going on when I knew what was going on so I had facts and numbers to work with." Caroline heard her mother's tight sigh or relief and decided to strike when there was an inch of softness. "Can you _please_ leave the apartment now?"

"I'm meeting you somewhere," she was informed. "Bring the boxer, I want to get a good look at him."

"Absolutely not," she said sternly. "You are not scaring him off!"

"I didn't say I planned on scaring him off."

"Are you or are you not in your uniform?" Caroline said blandly.

"I came straight from work," Liz retorted, heat masking most of her sheepishness. "It's incidental."

"You are not scaring Klaus off," Caroline said loudly. "He's a good guy, mom-"

"I'll be the judge of that," the Sheriff informed her. "Where are we going to meet?"

Caroline mentioned the name of a bar they had visited in one of the sheriff’s early trips, and told her how long she intended to take to get there. Her mother was not happy about the distance. Caroline was told to bring her tazer.

The joke was that she had sold the tazer months ago to make ends meet on a particularly dry month. Something had come up that had needed just a little extra funding than she had access to. Of course, had Tyler been pulling his weight, that never would have happened. Hindsight was twenty twenty.

Dressing in the clothes that touched her hands first, she was pulling on her shoes as she trotted down the hall.

“Alright?” Klaus queried.

“It's fine,” she said in way of explanation.

"I didn't mean to listen, but you raised your voice," he said, a little uneasily. "Someone thinks I'm hurting you, don't they?"

"It's my mom," she murmured. Her hands twisted the ends of her hair in thought as she studied his face. Though he was hurt for being made the bad guy, Caroline could see that he was trying his best to hide it with understanding. “It's fine, it's just that she saw the news from my town. She just went to my apartment to check I wasn’t beat up in there, and I had to get her away from there before Tyler balled up and answered with some bullshit guilt trip or something.”

"He'd try that?" A frown marred his lips. "Lying to your mother to try and lure you back to him?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," she told him flatly. Her hands crossed under her pits, and she squared her shoulders. "It's _fine_. He just - he tries to pressure me."

For a long moment, she felt truly seen by the intense blue of his eyes. Weighed and measured, and completely understood. It was such an unfamiliar feeling to have someone know her that Caroline felt a sweat break on the lower part of her back, making her shift under the scrutiny.

"I understand the methods an ex will go to in an effort to reclaim what they have lost," he told her patiently. "As long as you don't want to date him, love, I won't let him drag you into his world again. Do you want me to go have words with him while you're with your mother?"

" _No_ ," came hot and sharp out of her mouth. "I don't. Violence isn't the answer. He just plays games - and anything bad you did to him? He would use. No. I need you to be with me, and stay out of trouble."

His throat bobbed in a swallow. Something about what she had demanded from him had made his eyes soft and wide, and hands flex at his sides. 

"Then I'll stay out of trouble," he told her. She believed him. "Do you want me to meet your mother so she can get my measure?"

"She'll probably think you're the reason I'm single," she said without thinking.

“You haven’t told her about your ex?” 

“I- I haven’t really had time,” she said, somewhat defensively. “And I haven’t – like, done the process. It’s not – It’s not like I’m holding on, but I couldn’t just – tell her what he did. Tyler grew up in my house, and my mom loves him.”

Sensing that he was treading thin ice, he did not pursue her uneven ramble. He looked at her hand fisted around her keys, and sat forward.

“I’ll give you a lift at least,” he suggested. 

“She’s a sheriff,” was her quick denial. “And she’s pissed at you.”

“Then I’ll stay in the car. At least this way you know you’re safe. No taxi, no waiting on the street. And then I’ll certainly stay out of trouble, hm?” He got to his feet and walked around the couch to grab his shoes and pick up his keys on the way out.

Caroline couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief that his eyes never once landed on the painting. Nothing about him was aggressive. He wasn’t put out that her mother was mad at him for something he hadn’t done. It was so weird to have been ready to have a fight with him, and for him to be... so chill. Especially seeing as Tyler had hated talking to her mother, even when he'd grown up with her. He’d found the Sheriff to be intimidating and mean. He had never broken the law when they had lived in Mystic Falls, but he had skirted the line once or twice with some rough housing. He had made Caroline memorize his alibis when he was caught out, and he had made her move with the main reason being that he didn't like the Sheriff 'controlling him all the time'.

Klaus stopped walking when he was standing next to her, his eyes soft and focused unblinkingly on her face.

“Is it alright that I want to drive you?” he murmured. He held the keys between them. “Because you can take my car, if you’d prefer.”

“Huh? No. No, I want you,” she insisted. “Why? What made you say that?”

His eyebrows lifted. Slowly, his attention dragged over her face, down her throat, and lingered on the space between them. When she followed with her eyes, she found her damaged hand latched onto his wrist, her fingers pressing into his palm.

“Oh.”

Words failed her. She hadn’t realized that she had grabbed at him with so much force. Actually, she hadn’t even known that her hand had touched him until she was looking at it. Stealing a glance from under her lashes revealed him watching her face for a sign of discomfort.

She didn’t let go.

He twined their fingers one by one, everything about him slow and testing, waiting for the merest breath of resistance.

“May I?” he said softly.

“You may,” she replied, matching his volume. She knew her face was pink, and knew that he was watching them, but she couldn’t stop looking at the fit of their hands together. It was so innocent, warm and lovely.

And like...

She had seen him naked, okay? His body had been honed for combat. All hard and dangerous and delicious. She had touched his bare chest and dragged her fingers over the tight lines of his stomach. There were cords of muscle she had never seen on any one in real life before, and the hard edges of him were supremely, deliriously hot hot hot. She had been naked! He had been naked! They had been at least a little drunk and like- super touchy!

But this hand holding thing?

That was where they were intimate.

“I’ll follow your lead, love,” he assured her. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous to give me that kind of power over you,” she tried to tease him, but it just came out throaty and low. She wet her lips with her tongue, and put her keys in her back pocket.

“You already have power over me,” he replied, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. That was – too much.”

“But honest?” she squeaked, daring to peek at him once more.

“Too honest, given we’ve decided not to start anything between us,” he muttered. Clearing his throat made her nod, and start to literally lead him to the door. “If I ever say anything that you find – too much, too soon –“

“I’ll let you know,” she promised him.

What she didn’t tell him was how much she doubted that _he_ would be the one considered too much in their friendship.


	13. The Bar

As soon as Caroline pushed open the door to the bar, she spotted the Sheriff. More to the point, the Sheriff spotted her. She got off the stool and marched over to pull her into a tight hug, winding her up in steely arms.

“Hi mom,” Caroline said, and burst into tears.

She hadn’t meant to do it, okay? But it had been a pretty hard week, and something about the smell of her mom made her carefully honed control slip through her fingers and smash on the floor.

“Hi baby,” Liz said urgently, squeezing her even harder. Liz had never given a delicate hug in her life, but this one apparently came with a purpose. “You’re not hurt anywhere?”

Caroline blubbered and shook her head. She buried into the Sheriff’s coat and sobbed ugly sobs, feeling smaller and younger than she had in ages. They were very still together, holding on and holding tight, until Liz pulled away to cup her face in careful hands.

She traced the space under Caroline’s dripping lashes, her eyes hawk-sharp as she looked for any trace of a blemish.

“Klaus didn’t hit me,” she sniffed. “Can you buy me a drink?”

Liz’s mouth twisted but she didn’t say a damn word. She tucked Caroline under her wing like a vengeful angel and steered her to the bar, waiting until she was sat before pushing a glass at her. They both drank in silence until their glasses were empty. Liz motioned to get another two, and then looked at the tears still tracking on Caroline’s face.

“Spill,” was the quiet demand.

“I don’t really wanna talk,” she croaked. Trying to lighten the mood, she summoned a wobbly smile. “I need that other drink first.”

“Fine. You’re gonna drink that drink and tell me everything,” Liz said bluntly. A hard breath puffed out of her nose as her gaze searched Caroline’s face and throat. “No one hit you?”

“No,” she offered.

She swiped under her eyes with her knuckles and Liz took her wrist, looking at the scabbing cuts in clear claw marks on the back of her hand. The Sheriff didn’t say anything. She waited for the glasses to be set down and watched Caroline knock hers back, sipping hers for a little courage.

“Now spill.”

It wasn’t an option.

“I was going to call you on the weekend,” Caroline said in a preemptive defense. She looked inside the empty glass. “I’ve had a really shitty week, mom.”

“Tell me about the boxer.”

“He’s not a boxer.”

“He’s a fighter with a criminal background,” Liz pointed out.

“Those charges were dropped,” Caroline countered. She had Googled him to find accusations dating back in the day, but had never discovered who lay them on his name.

“He has deep pockets.” There was no room for give. She was too old, and too well versed in the art of interrogation, to be so easily mislead. “Tell me about the boxer, Caroline.”

“He’s not just a boxer,” Caroline grumbled petulantly. She rubbed her eyes again and sucked in a shaky breath. “He’s a mixed martial artist. He’s really good at it, like, world class. And he’s so nice to me. Seriously. He’d give Stefan a run for his money, so nice to me.”

“Tell me how you met him.”

“At a café,” she said faintly. She sniffed. “I borrowed his pen. And when I returned it we got to talking, and he offered me a place to stay for a little while.”

“Why didn’t you call me if you needed somewhere else to stay?” Liz countered. “How long have you been out of your apartment?”

“I’ve only stayed there two nights. Tonight will be the third,” she said through a thick throat. She tried to clear it, but the thing clogging her windpipe wasn’t anything physical.

“Drink,” Liz said quietly, nudging her own glass over. Once it was empty, she managed to meet her mother’s eye. “Are we going to talk about the drinking?”

“Not tonight,” Caroline rasped. The liquor had hit her throat pretty hard. She swallowed against it. “There’s too much to talk about.”

“I’m letting you off the hook just this once,” Liz muttered. There was a pause between them. “So the boxer didn’t hit you.”

“No.”

“Who did?”

“I didn’t get hit, mom. It was mascara. I promise.”

“So how’d the photo hit the press?”

“Ugh. His ex just decided to try and drag his name through the dirt because she’s a petty bitch, probably.” Rolling the glass on its rim, she looked at her mom with tear swollen eyes. Her smile was tiny. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Liz murmured. Her face was drawn and a little tired. She shook her head faintly. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t living in the apartment? I could’ve sent you money to get you by.”

“I was thinking about it but Klaus showed up before I could.“

“He could’ve been anyone. He could’ve done anything to you.” Liz’s lips were in a firm line. “You can call me for help anytime, you know that.”

“I handled it,” Caroline insisted.

“You had Tyler worried to death,” Liz went on. Caroline flicked her eyes to her mother’s unmarred brow. She didn’t know that they were broken up, but how would she know that Tyler was upset?

“Did you speak to him?” she asked.

“I had been banging on the door for nearly five minutes before he answered,” Liz pointed out. “He thought I was the boxer until he heard me on the phone with you.”

Caroline’s spine crawled.

“Tyler-“ she said, then restarted for more pertinent information. “You spoke to Tyler?”

“Yeah,” Liz said slowly, seeing the dawning horror on her daughter’s face. She frowned. “He said you guys had gone through a hell of a fight. That he hadn’t seen any news articles until you posted something on your Instagram?”

“What else did he say?”

“He said – well, he said that things between you two were a little icy. That you had moved most of your stuff out after the fight. That you weren’t giving him a chance to explain himself, and something about you having him assaulted-?”

“What did Tyler say we fought about, mom?” Caroline pressed.

“He didn’t,” Liz admitted. Wise to the stiff hike of Caroline’s shoulders, she tilted her head, and flicked her eyes over Caroline’s head. “What did you fight about?”

Caroline went to open her mouth, but another voice answered.

“I cheated,” Tyler said quietly.

Her skin crawled. The breath of those words caressed her ear and she fell off the stool to glower at him with the hottest look she could manage.

Tyler looked properly ashamed, making himself as small as he possibly could. He didn’t look at either of the Forbes women.

“You what?” Liz demanded.

“He cheated on me,” Caroline said flatly. “With our neighbor. And he did this.” She held up her sore hand, the scored marks dragged into her skin.

Liz’s mouth pressed together tightly, and she got to her feet. Though she wasn’t overly tall, the way she held herself rung of power. The hand she put on her hip where her gun should’ve been was a very strong indication of her temper.

“That was an accident,” Tyler insisted. “Care, I have never hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I was just – you wouldn’t listen to me, and I just needed to tell you what really happened.”

“Your _dick happened_!” Several pairs of prying eyes swiveled to watch the storm unfold. “You had sex with another woman in _our_ bed!”

“Yeah,” he said, truly cowed under the attention. “I did. I’m sorry. It was wrong, and I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I can make it up to you-“

“Make it up to me?” she spluttered. “No, Tyler, there is no making it up to me. We are done. I told you that. We are _done_.”

“I can’t do it,” he choked. “I can’t let you go. You’re perfect for me, and I know I’m perfect for you. We’re – we’re gonna go the distance-“

“The distance?!” she shrieked. It was so loud it actively hurt her throat. “Are you out of your entire FUCKING MIND?”

Tyler flinched from the volume and stared at her mournfully. Yeah, yeah, maybe that would’ve worked on her as a pathetic sixteen year old, but not anymore. He had taken her for granted for so long that she had been too burnt out to notice that he was a parasite. She’d wasted so many years of her youth trying and trying and trying to make him happy.

And yet?

He cheated.

He tried to say her name and make her listen, but she was done. He didn’t get to have closure on her when she would be hurt about the failure of them for the rest of her life.

So instead of listening at all, Caroline took her mom’s hand, and started to march herself out of the bar. She heard the chair scrape the floor and the change in his voice. Pleading, begging, then louder. More insistent. Urgent footfalls followed, and her mother’s hand was wrenched away from her grip.

Caroline was spun around, Tyler’s eyes wide and wet, mouth open to speak.

But whatever he said was never spoken.

“Hands,” snarled a voice. “Off.”

Tyler shrunk at least two sizes, hands recoiling like she had burned him. He didn’t blink as Klaus shut the bar door behind him and stood beside her, brow low and teeth gritted.

“Heard you yell,” he said through his teeth. “Does the boy need to be put in his place, love?”

The answer was always going to be no, but truthfully? Oh, that little bit of power in her hands was delicious. Plus, the asshole had put hands on her mom. The least she could do was let him stew under the threat of Klaus’ growled question.

“Depends,” she said simply. She arched her brow at the love of her short life, and gave him an entirely belittling up and down. “Mom, are you alright?”

“Never better,” Liz replied grumpily. She gave Tyler a look of utter disdain. “Your father would roll in his grave.”

His expression crumpled, and he put his face in his hands. A shuddering sob pulled out of his throat, and he started to cry.

It did not make Caroline feel as good as she thought it would.

“Done,” she said, just so she was perfectly clear. “Over. Finished. Don’t call me again.”

With that, she turned her back and walked out of there with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Mom,” she said brightly. Her hand slid into Klaus’ fist. He relaxed his grip until her fingers could link between his. “This is Klaus. Klaus, this is my mom Liz.”

“Sorry it wasn’t in better circumstances,” Klaus grunted.

“Shitty circumstances,” the Sheriff agreed. “But that being said, what’s this I hear about you being an angel for my little girl?”

Klaus’ cheeks pinked.

Caroline planned to go back to the stunning apartment with her mom’s full approval of this very important (very sudden) man in her life. They would have a cup of coffee while she was free to explain what had happened with Tyler, what was happening with the press, and what she was already plotting her next career move would be.

Everything was finally, finally coming up Caroline.


	14. The Way Things Usually Go

You know what they say about best laid plans?


	15. The Ex

The same second the elevator doors opened, Caroline saw the back of a glossy red head and her world narrowed into the realization of who it was. She felt the literal sweat glaze Klaus’ palm, and saw his cheeks go from pleasingly flushed to an awful, sickly off-grey.

Though Liz walked forward, the two of them stood there in the elevator, still and in shock, as Aurora turned on her teetering heels and locked eyes on the clasp of their hands.

“Hi, Klaus,” she breathed, and flicked her eyes up to his face.

“Aurora,” he replied, and stepped out of the elevator before the doors could shut on them. He blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I would’ve waited inside, but you changed the lock,” she simpered. Her lashes batted. Caroline’s skin crawled. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with Elijah. He has the details that confirm I was not the one who got into your phone and leaked that story. I would _never_.”

Caroline had known her for twelve seconds, and knew it was a lie.

There was something… awful, about her. Something twisty and not quite right. Something menacing, and bloodthirsty, and nasty. It was hidden behind her pretty face, sure, but not in her balled up hands and soulless smile.

“You should’ve just called,” Klaus told her. He hadn’t blinked in a long time. “I’m busy.”

“I thought it was news best delivered in person,” purred the redhead. Her gaze never left his. “And I missed you.”

“And I’m Caroline,” she announced with a sunny smile. The ex didn’t look at her, so she turned up the charm – and the volume. “I’m sorry, Klaus has never mentioned an Aurora before, are you an old friend?”

 _That_ got her attention.

“We were a little more than friends,” she admitted with a sly widening of her smile. Like a shark. “And I’m surprised he’s never mentioned me, seeing as his last art exhibit had my name listed as the muse.”

“Oh!” Caroline said brightly. “The _ex_ , Aurora! Oh, yeah, I’ve heard _all_ about you.”

Aurora prettied her smile.

“I can understand why you didn’t recognize me,” she said sweetly. “I know those paintings are _stylized_.”

“Any particular reason you’re here?” Caroline prompted sweetly. “Or can I get downstairs to call you a cab?”

Aurora’s eye twitched.

“I have my own driver, thank you so much,” she said slowly. She looked at Klaus with meaning. “I don’t suppose she comes from much money, does she?”

“No,” Liz told her mildly. “But I raised her well enough read the signs of when she isn’t wanted.”

“Who says she’s wanted here?” Aurora asked with a girlish lilt to her voice. Her eyes slid over the length of Klaus’ body, lingering on certain places enough to make her train of thought impossibly clear. Klaus hand tightened and his mouth popped open to reply, but the redhead beat him to it. “Tell me, lover, do you still have my painting hung to welcome you home?”

The fact was, Caroline was in no mood to play beauty queen, so she would play dirty instead (and god, was she good at it). With everything Klaus had alluded to about this woman, there was _no way_ she would be returning to Klaus’ life now if Caroline had anything to say about it.

Caroline made a show of furrowing her brow.

“What are you talking about?” she said flatly. “ _What_ painting?”

The storm that crossed the entitled brat’s face was immensely satisfying. In that one little lie, Caroline watched her entire persona shatter at the toes of her shiny shoes, her mouth turning into a deep frown. The illusion of her gone, Aurora didn’t bother trying to hedge her bets.

Her dug in her bag to reveal a large sealed folder, and tucked the straps over her shoulder.

“I didn’t leak anything to anyone,” she sulked. “Elijah made sure. You can call him if you don’t believe me. Whoever sold you out to the press came from someone else’s phone. I don’t recognize the number or the name, but then again, you have _so many_ enemies already.”

Her cascading waves were artfully shook, dispersing a strategic waft of perfume around her determined stride. The click of her heels was obnoxious, and the pointed ignoring of both Caroline and her mother didn’t go unnoticed. She held out the folder to Klaus, who didn’t move an inch.

“If it’s from Elijah’s desk, then I’ll get it from Elijah,” he warned her quietly. Caroline was glad that he tightened his grip on her hand. She focused on pouring strength into their touching palms, staring boldly and with warmth at the side of his head. _You can do it. You can do it_. “You can go now.”

“It’d be a waste of paper, not to mention my time, if you don’t look here,” Aurora pointed out, a little hard. The hand holding the envelope shook it back and forward. “It’s sealed, for god’s sake, Niklaus. Do see someone about that raging paranoia, won’t you? It’s unbecoming in a man your age.”

She pushed the documents flat to his chest, cutting him a wicked smile as she tried to bully her way through the middle of them. Only Caroline would sooner accept Tyler’s apology before she broke the hold on his hand, and it seemed to her that Klaus was more or less in the same boat.

Aurora made a punched out noise of exertion when the force of her stride pulled their grip tight across her stomach. Whirling with wide, watery eyes, she opened her mouth with a pitiful little gasp-

“ _Don’t_ ,” Klaus said through his teeth. He dropped Caroline’s hand to allow Aurora passage… but judging by the smug little smile, that had been what she wanted.

“Still so easy to tug those strings,” she cooed. She glanced at Caroline. “Good to know.”

Her glittering eyes disappeared behind the shutting doors of the elevator, and Caroline felt all the heat in the world go with her.

* * *

“Lucien Castle,” Klaus intoned, eyes scanning the pages. He gave a non-committal sniff. “Aurora does bloody well know him. He was mad for her in college. Typical of her not to notice; she was more concerned with one of the professors before we started dating.”

“Girls like that usually don’t remember guys unless they’re the ones doing the chasing,” Liz mentioned. “Your brother is Elijah Mikealson?”

“Attorney at Law,” Klaus mumbled. He hadn’t lifted his eyes from the pages since he had torn open the seal. Every word was devoured hungrily, fingers imprinting on the paper. “Best in the business, if you ask my mother.”

“What about if I ask you?” Caroline quipped.

Klaus flashed her a tight lipped smile, but it did very little to prove to her that he wasn’t wrapped up in Aurora’s sudden re-appearance in his life. He might think he was being sly, using the paperwork as an excuse not to look at her, but she wasn’t fooled.

“Do you want a hot drink?” she wondered. “Mom makes a mean cocoa, and I know there’s a stiff, milk based liquor somewhere on those shelves.”

“No, thank you love,” he told the papers. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night, Sheriff.”

“I had no intentions on staying,” Sheriff Forbes said mildly. “I was coming to grab Caroline and take her home. I have a job lined up for you and all.”

“You what?” Caroline said, exasperated.

“Well I had to do something with all the time I spent driving, and you weren’t picking up your phone!” Liz defended. “You still want to get into journalism, right?”

“Mom, you can’t just uproot me now…” she started, trailing into a thoughtful stare. She had always, always wanted to get into journalism. Her mother had been pretty blasé about the pursuit, but encouraged her all the same. “What do you have set up?”

“It’s only something small,” Liz told her. “Some online thing, I don’t know. Bonnie said it was: ‘like BuzzFeed, but not annoying’, whatever that means.”

“Bonnie?” Caroline echoed.

Things with her old friend had… not been good for a while. They way Caroline had seen it, Bonnie had put pressure on her to make room for their friendship, when Caroline had barely made room for herself. Things like regular phone calls, a girl’s weekend away, a Facebook poke every now and then… It had been somehow too much.

Hindsight being what it was, Bonnie’s sixth sense for Tyler’s bullshit behavior made a lot more sense.

“She is in photography and works for them,” Sheriff Forbes explained. “She said that she had sent you the email a few days ago and that you hadn’t replied to her in weeks, which is another reason I thought I should probably show up.”

“She worries too much,” Caroline admonished sheepishly. “I was fine.”

The pursing of Liz’s mouth let Caroline know that she wasn’t getting away with it, and only their audience was keeping her from a (probably overdue) telling off. She cringed under the severity of the oncoming lecture and looked at Klaus with big eyes, imploring him for a distraction.

But Klaus was very busy with reading, and casually turned away, eyes fixed to the page. A scowl deepened on his features, and he sat at the kitchen island, laying the papers down to stare at them intensely.

“So,” she said loudly. “This uh, Castle guy, he knew your password?”

“He knows me well enough to have guessed it,” Klaus said bluntly. He didn’t elaborate.

She knew that tone. It was one of Tyler’s tried and true.

_Don’t bother me._

“Oh, okay.” Linking her fingers together, she sort of dallied before turning back toward her mother, who was giving her a Look. “Uh, so, I can call you a cab if you need to get back to your car?”

“I think you should come home,” Liz said frankly. “Just for the weekend. Come and see Bonnie and Elena. They’ve missed you.”

“I can’t just take off,” Caroline debated immediately. “I have things that I need to do here.”

“Like what?” Liz prompted.

“I have to-…” _Process being cheated on?_ “Find a new place to live.”

“That’s what the internet is for, and you can do that in my car,” Liz told her with a shrug. “It won’t hurt you to take a little time to come on home. I’ll take Sunday off and we can have a proper catch up.”

“Mom, you’re caught up,” Caroline debated. “Tyler’s an asshole, everything’s fine.”

“I miss you,” her mother said boldly. “That isn’t anything you can fix by staying here. If you want to keep it quiet and hide out in the house, I can do that too.”

It had been… ages, since she and her mom had just hung out. Spent a lazy Sunday whiling away the morning with baking fiascoes and cleaning the house to fall into a puff of blankets and pillows in the middle of their lounge.

Maybe her dad had still been around, the last time they’d done that, but still. It would be chicken soup for her weary soul.

But more than that – she had a plan to enact. She had Tyler’s porn to deal with, and part of that plan would be best put into motion if she went home. If anything, that was the sneaky thought that sealed the deal.

“It won’t hurt,” she admitted thoughtfully. “You don’t mind, Klaus?”

“Whatever you like, love,” he murmured. He clearly hadn’t been listening, eyes stuck to the page.

So Caroline nodded, and smiled at her mom, and went to get her charger and some things to go home to Mystic Falls.

* * *

She needn’t have bothered, because by Sunday morning Klaus had sent the rest of her stuff to her without a word.


	16. You Have (?) Missed Messages

_‘Hey Klaus! It’s Caroline. Just calling before I get into bed. We got here okay. How’s everything going with your very serious legal papers over there? I can’t stop thinking about you! Which isn’t to say – like – I’m thinking about you before I go to bed, or whatever, I’m just like, concerned. You know, because I was in my situation and you’ve been so good to me and… yeah. Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow sometime. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll see you soon.’_

* * *

_‘Hey Klaus, it’s Caroline! Like I mean – obviously, douy, caller ID! Listen, I just caught up with some old friends and they were interested in my mystery man – not that you’re “my” man, but they don’t really follow sport so they don’t know who you are…Anyway, I was just wondering if I could show them some photos of you from Google? Or is that weird and stalkery?... How’s everything going with that Castle guy? Has your brother figured out everything?... Anyway – totally know you’re busy. Call me back when you can, and look after yourself, okay?’_

* * *

_‘Hey, it’s Caroline – uhm, a bunch of my stuff just showed up in boxes – I’m just calling to ask if you sent it? Because I know I took this stuff to your place but… you don’t have my address, so… Anyway. Call me back.’_

* * *

_‘Klaus, have I done something wrong? I have to go back to the city tomorrow morning- well I don’t actually have to, I guess. I mean-… My stuff is here, my mom and my friends are here, and I’ve got a job opportunity that my sixteen year old brain is crying for-… I wanted to go back, but if I’ve done something wrong and you aren’t talking to me, I want to apologize for anything I did… Just… don’t ghost me, okay? Talk to me. You’re important to me, and if there’s something wrong I want to fix it. Please don’t ghost me. Call me, okay?’_

* * *

_‘So I just finished my first week at my new job – and you are not going to believe this, but my first article has been trending all over the net, and it’s cleared everything up about us! I was just wondering if you were okay with what I said? I know you have a bajillion things to do and you’re probably super busy and you currently aren’t talking to me, but for what it’s worth? … I hope my word goes a little toward clearing your name. I really miss you though. Is that weird? That’s so weird. Sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow sometime.’_

* * *

_‘I get it. You’re screening my calls. Cool. I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry if I made you feel-… some type of way. Maybe I overstayed my welcome, or-… I don’t know. Maybe you felt used? I just – I get it. I’m not gonna bother you anymore. If you ever need to talk about something, you can call me, or text me, or whatever suits you best. I just-…Won’t bother you anymore. I’ve left a ton of messages now and you haven’t even opened my last text so I’m getting the hint, and you don’t have to worry about it. I really wish you the best, Klaus. I already miss you. I-… I hope I hear from you soon. Look after yourself.’_

* * *

_‘This is seriously the last time I’m calling. I just got an email from Elijah Mikealson asking me to politely cease and desist before you press charges? Could you not have sent a ‘fuck you, and fuck off’ text? God! What is it with me picking men that want to make everything my fault? I don’t know what I did! What did I do, Klaus? How did I upset you? Like – I-…I’m sorry, but I thought we were becoming – I don’t know! Someone worth knowing?! And this whole – being left in the dark, bullshit? It sucks. It fucking sucks. I never wanted to fight with you or hurt you or- whatever, and now I don’t even know where I went wrong and-!… Oh my god, it doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Whatever. But the next time you’re going to ghost someone, just a simple ‘get fucked, fuck off’ message will be better so we all know where you stand. So yeah. You can run along to your big scary brother and tell him this is me ceasing and desisting. You can be left alone now!... But-…. If you wanted to call me, I’ll answer. Always. I promise. I’m… I’m sorry, Klaus. Take care. Goodbye.’_

* * *

_ **Two Years Later** _

* * *

_‘Caroline, it’s Klaus Mikealson. If this is your number, call me back. You and I have some business to tend to.’_


	17. The Internet

Caroline straightened her blazer for the fourth time since entering the borrowed boardroom and lifted her chin, practicing her smile in the provided mirror. The gloss she had applied made her lips look rose petal soft. Which was _great_! Because it hid the fact that she had gnawed her lower lip to bruising only hours before, when Ric had pretty much verbally strong-armed her into doing the stupid interview on pain of death.

Well…

Death was a lot.

But as Ric put it:

_‘Listen, Care, I won’t be mad, but I’ll be pretty disappointed.’_

And that sounded like death of a less literal kind to her.

Did it matter that her armpits were sweating? It was just a YouTube interview, for Christ sake.

 _But Klaus_ , her brain reminded her.

So… yes it mattered that she was sweating. He had been so annoyingly perfect, and she hadn’t broken a sweat over a man since the last time she dealt with Tyler.

Two years was a long time not to know a person. It was especially long when she’d only had three days for the Mikealson brawler to whirlwind into her life. He had been there for her, and seen all sorts of things she usually didn’t let people see.

Vulnerable, scared, drunk, soft, honest? All those ugly, wild things. If anyone in her town had seen her the way he had seen her, they wouldn’t take her half as seriously as a journalist now.

 _Take a breath_ , Bonnie’s calming voice echoed in her head. Her tiny friend had given her a solid shake when she had come to do the lighting tests for the photoshoot she had been granted after the interview. _You are good at this, and you know this guy! It’s one interview!_

 _Yeah!_ Caroline had exclaimed. _About how he maybe killed the guy that leaked my photo!_

 _He was literally exonerated,_ Bonnie reminded her. _And you’re the one that has always said he never scared you._

 _I wasn’t ever scared he would hurt me,_ she admitted. _I was always scared that I like him so much and how much it hurt when he kicked me out!_

The glass door opened with a whisper and Caroline whipped around, mouth parting to draw in a deep pull of air. She had gone into this interview with the plan to keep her calm and professionalism fully engaged. She wasn’t a heart-broken flightless bird anymore, but a strong, clever, information driven woman.

Whatever had happened between them before evaporated. The second that she saw Klaus’ too-wide eyes, her resolve to be passive and serious was left cold and forgotten in the wake of her hurried heel clicks.

She skipped toward him, and he strode for her, arms open as he enveloped her in his embrace. Her hand fitted against the back of his head in a claw and threaded through his curls, finding the heat of his skull reassuring. She shut her eyes and breathed him in, relieved that he was burying his face against her throat and doing the same.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hello, love,” he exhaled, ruffling the curls over her shoulder. He tightened his arms a little when she made to extract, but released a mere second later, mouth parted. He didn’t dare blink, gaze drifting over her face. “God, Caroline-“

 _I’ve missed you,_ she heard.

“I know,” she said, and attempted to summon a smile. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and she tried to reassure him with a little squeeze. “Me too.”

“I don’t think you do,” he said quickly. “I can explain-“

“Wait for the mic,” she advised, and stepped to the side. Her heart nearly fell out of her ass when she realized they weren’t alone. It was a blessing that he wasn’t flanked by security (they were guarding the door outside), but his brother - the world’s most prolific lawyer - was watching with a small smile. “Oh! Oh my god, Mr. Mikealson-!”

“Please,” he said, extending his hand. He struck a firm and solid handshake, not bothering to try and make it dainty for her sake. She liked that. “Call me Elijah.”

“I didn’t see you,” she fretted. “I – I didn’t even see you there.”

“That’s quite alright. Niklaus has admitted there’s some unresolved history between you,” he said, amused. He cut a look to Klaus, who was already scowling. “Apparently I am to be on my best behavior if I want to keep my head attached to my neck. Isn’t that right, brother?”

“Sod off,” Klaus muttered. “You don’t even need to be here.”

“Actually-“ Caroline interjected, before Elijah could get his retort in. “I would like him here. His word in an interview is incredibly well received by our staple audiences, and people like to hear him talk. Can I get you two anything before we start?”

Looking between them, she got the distinct impression they had some kind of meaningful conversation without words. It must’ve been a sibling thing she would never quite get the grasp of.

“No, thank you,” Elijah said politely, taking a prim seat at the head of the table.

Caroline took his left, and directed Klaus to sit across from her. He moved like a panther, taking his sweet time to meander to the proffered seat and drag it out. Caroline made herself busy with the mic, fiddling with the sound levels on her laptop until they all read green.

“Can I get a test?” she asked them both, observing the spike of her voice.

“Good morning,” said the eldest.

“What do you want me to say?” Klaus muttered.

“A little louder,” Caroline admonished, sliding the dial. “Lift your face away from your chest, the mic is getting the interference of your shirt.”

“I need to talk to you,” he said more clearly.

That made her audibly swallow, and she knew that because it read on the screen.

“Later,” she promised, and adjusted the level so that his voice wasn’t as quiet.

Pressing record, Caroline tossed her hair and straightened her shoulders, recalling how many times she had been through the process of interviews in the last two years. No one so important to her, of course. But Bonnie had been right – she knew her job, and she was _good_ at it.

“Welcome back to the PodRic,” she started, staring Klaus in the eye. “I am Caroline Forbes and today I am talking to Elijah and Klaus Mikealson in regards to their recent and historic legal battle. How are you gentlemen?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Elijah offered. “Thank you for having us.”

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied. “Although I’m sure you can guess that it’s also a little bit of a surprise to my boss and I that you reached out for the exclusive with us.”

“I trust you,” Klaus told her.

There was a pause, where Caroline tried to remember how to breathe so the mic didn’t hear it. Would the camera be able to see her face bloom with heat?

“We were wondering why you’d reach out to a little indie publication so far out of your way,” she clarified.

“The nature of the case was quite difficult, and particularly emotionally charged, as you can imagine,” Elijah told her smoothly. “Niklaus was connected to the persons involved for a number of years. While he stood accused of this heinous act, not only was he being held accountable for an act he’d never commit; his career was in jeopardy, he was isolated from kindness, and he was in mourning for the unfair death of his oldest friend. Talking about the case to anyone at length will undoubtedly be draining, and we want to minimize the energy left to expend on it. It’s less likely to be twisted by someone trusted, and less intrusive.”

Caroline nodded.

“If anything is too much-“

“Ask me anything,” Klaus said blandly. He batted unfairly long lashes at her, looking very pitiful and puppy-eyed. “I trust you, love.”

He still had a way of making her heart go _BUMP_.

Her nervous gnawing made her lip burn with prior abuse. Every inch of Klaus was honed into her; there wasn’t a part of him that was in any way distracted. It was like staring into the eyes of a lion in the midst of the hunt – although she felt stupid for feeling so pleased about it, seeing as it made her the tasty antelope in his sights.

“Mr. Mikealson-“ she said quickly, cutting her eyes to the lawyer. “What can you tell me about the case? Just for anyone living under a rock who doesn’t know what happened.”

“Please, do call me Elijah,” he insisted pleasantly. “To confirm; my brother was accused of willfully and knowingly murdering Mr. Lucien Castle, of which he has been entirely stripped of all responsibility. The murderer is being held accountable for their actions.”

“So…” she said softly, and willfully turned her attention to the screen. Her voice had barely piqued on the monitor, so she spoke louder. “Where is safest to start, knowing that?”

“It all starts and ends with _us_ ,” Klaus told her firmly. He leaned forward, elbows digging into the table, eyes unblinking on her face. “Let me inform your audience of our history, shall I?”

“Most people are already aware that you and I were friendly,” she informed him. “With my posts about the ‘punched in the face incident’, from way back when we first met.”

“You have been a key character witness to the masses,” Elijah agreed. “There were a great deal of people who reserved judgment after one of your recent Twitter rants, I believe.”

Ah, yes. Her online posts from the _Miss Mystic: Knockout_ article had gone viral when #KlausMikealson had become trending on every known social media, but that wasn’t the tag that made her internet famous.

#MMAngel was her most popularly referenced tag. His long-time fans and various other celebs had used it so much that there was merch being made and sold for people to wear outside of his court appearances. She’d seen it on signs outside his hearing, and had read a ton of online messages attached to the tag.

“Klaus and I were briefly acquaintances,” she amended, speaking to the audience. “But I knew he was never the bad guy.”

“Acquaintances?” Klaus repeated incredulously. “That’s what you think we were?”

“From an objective position-“ she started.

“We were never _objective_ about anything,” he reminded her quickly. “You and I were fate.”

“Or sheer dumb luck,” she shot back. “You were my right place, right time, and I was just -“

“You were just as right for me,” he told her, hardening his tone. “We both knew something fantastic was happening that was beyond the both of us, as though it had been manufactured by someone else’s hands-“

“It was _three days_ ,” she snapped. Heat filled her face. Thoughts about the recording, Elijah as the audience, and too many sleepless nights were making her tongue loose and sharp. “And _you_ were the one that kicked me out!”

“I did not bloody such thing,” he scoffed. “Listen -“

“And then you didn’t answer my calls,” she accused. “You sent my stuff to me the same _second_ I got home with my mother, and then nothing! Not a single word, for two years! You had become so important to me so quickly, and then you didn’t let me fix what I had done wrong!”

“You never stepped a foot wrong,” he told her, pointing a sharp finger at her. “You were, and are, _important to me_. This whole thing – everything that lead me to the other end of the death penalty – starts and ends with _you_.”

“Do not,” she said hotly, wagging a finger back at him. “Blame this on me. I was nowhere near you!“

“I know,” he said simply. Those two factual words, no matter how bitterly said, did some of the legwork to soothe her. He relaxed the hike of his shoulders, and exhaled. “Caroline, love. I know. It was something I should’ve rectified, and you’ll never know how sorry I am that we suffered distance between us when I knew that we should’ve been together.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah advised gently. “From the start, brother. Explain how you told it to Rebekah.”

For a long moment, no one said anything.

“The night we went to the bar with your mother,” Klaus said slowly, thinking of the appropriate place to start. “We ran into my ex when we returned. She gave me a packet of information from Elijah’s office that confirmed that she was in no way related to the leak of the photo you sent me, and she left.”

“Yes,” Caroline said shortly.

“Then you chose to visit your hometown with your mother.” His throat bobbed around a hard swallow. “And then you never heard from me again. True or false?”

“Sure. Never heard a single thing,” she muttered.

Which was kind of a lie.

His office had sent her ring side seats to every match, complete with plane tickets and luxury hotels for two and three friends to join – but she never got a single text or call back from him, so she never went.

“Not directly,” he agreed. “I did send you invites to come to the octagon. It was a small effort to try and get you to speak to me face to face, so I could talk to you without the buffer of a screen.”

“Even though he couldn’t have,” Elijah reminded him, something soft about his voice. It was like reminding a small child of being unable to walk. “You couldn’t even admit it to me, nor Rebekah, nor our mother.”

“You don’t know Caroline like I do.” Klaus firmed his lips, and Caroline saw something terribly vulnerable in him. Her hands itched to take his, but they were balled up and held tight to his belly. “I would’ve told her anything and known full and well it was in capable hands.”

Breathing in, Caroline tried to pull her icy professional façade around her like a cape, but all that surrounded her was empathy. He was so _wounded_. He’d been so good to her when she had been kicked in the gutter, so it was the least she could do to breathe out, and make her voice calm.

“Tell me now,” she suggested.

He softened once more, eyes huge and emotive, the hard lines around his temples fading to mark his ease. He nodded once, slowly, then licked his lips.

“When you and your mother left that night, my ex came back,” he said roughly. “I didn’t bother checking who it was – I opened it because I thought you’d left something behind. She saw the painting of her I had stupidly left in my hall. When she realized I hadn’t thrown it away, she knew there was a chance she could drag me into her sphere.”

“Oh,” Caroline said. And she _knew_.

Once that redheaded bitch had put her claws back into him, there was nothing he could’ve done by himself to get out of her grasp. She had been the exact same with Tyler – and she knew that Klaus’ understanding of her tender heart was because his had suffered just the same.

“It took her less than a day to send your things,” he admitted softly. “She said you’d sent for them, and paid the bellhop to agree that you had. I didn’t find out until a few months ago in the middle of the trial.”

“We were looking through the phone logs at the hotel,” Elijah informed her. “Everything is recorded in the event of a mishandling of information, or if it needed to be reported to police, or threats against the staff. It showed the details of certain persons contacting the staff, and what for.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you call me, so I could tell you?”

“Because I believed that I had scared you away,” he muttered. “I believed the devil on my shoulder, breathing poison into my ear, that I wasn’t worth your golden smile, or your precious time. That I had been used when I was needed, and discarded when I was not. It was not the first time someone had disposed of me.”

“I would _never_ ,” Caroline breathed. “You were so important to me and I – I thought you hated me –“

“No,” he amended quickly. “No. I don’t know if I ever could. Caroline, this whole thing – she planned it. This distance was what she wanted to weasel her way in.”

“She always wanted what she couldn’t have,” Elijah drawled, and flipped open his file. He drew a pen from his breast pocket and doodled on the corner, loopy and swirling lines of calligraphy. “As long as Niklaus remained unattached to anyone, she was content to string him along behind her in an effort to – ‘treat him mean, and keep him keen’, I believe.”

“Lucien told her I was dating,” Klaus added. “She told him it was nothing and that she was still the apple of my eye. To prove her wrong, he uploaded the photo and waited to see what I would do.”

“You must understand,” Elijah said patiently. “Such things tend to happen. People who interact with my brother tend to be of a singular hive mind to find something to blackmail him with. Generally, the protocol is to address the issue with sponsors and management, and stay mute to the public to discourage copycatting.”

“But when we went to raze the earth where your name and mine were mentioned,” Klaus went on. “She knew we must be close.”

“She was very jealous of the ferocity in his response, as he didn’t do much the same for when she had been publicly shamed in the past. Knowing that he had feelings for you that had rivaled what he felt for her, she kept Klaus under quite the lock and key,” Elijah mentioned. “He could barely move for want of her accusing him of any number of things. When she started to self-harm, Klaus admitted her to a mental health facility to protect them both.”

“And the press never got wind of any of this?” Caroline said slowly. “She-… She’s not exactly the girl next door. People know her name. Why didn’t anyone notice?”

“I’m _very_ good at what I do,” Elijah drawled, giving her a playfully smug smile.

Caroline looked at Klaus.

“But why didn’t you call me?” she asked again. Later, listening back to the footage, she would notice how devastated her voice truly was. At the time, she had estimated she was holding it together.

“She hid my phone.” The line between his brows appeared and deepened. “I was manipulated, Caroline. I was held to her every word, and her word was to forget you. You know what people can be like when they’re under your skin.”

Goosebumps broke over her arms, and she rubbed a nervous hand back and forth over her sleeve. God, she knew it. She just didn’t want it to have happened to someone like Klaus.

“I’m sorry you went through that, Klaus,” she mentioned gently.

He shrugged.

“S’done now,” he said loftily. It didn’t fool her. She could feel his regret wafting through the air between them. “But again; if you and I had’ve just spoken to each other, Lucien Castle would be alive today.”

“What can you tell me about what happened?” she prompted quietly. Her head was still wrapped around how far gone he must’ve been under Aurora’s thumb, and how deeply she _still_ cared for this man. “And what I had to do with it?”

Klaus swallowed.

“Well,” he said, rough. “You know that in my spare time, I like to make art. Painting being the medium of choice.”

“You’re a very good artist,” she nodded.

“Thank you.” A pause. He ran his thumb over the back of his other hand, self-soothing. “My muse died a handful of years ago. I hadn’t painted before I met you for years, and then with my Ex being hyper critical of my work I couldn’t summon the will to create. One night I dreamt, and found the acrylic on my brush had something to say.”

“What did it say?”

“It said _freedom_ ,” he murmured. “It said _light_ in the strokes of blonde and _warmth_ in the glitter of gentle blue eyes. It spoke of _kindness_ in a rose smile, and promised me unconditional _sincerity_ in the elegant arch of a fine brow. It was the loveliest thing in my world, and I lost hours to it.”

Wetting her lips, she looked at her notes, but found the letters blurry. Her heart was thundering in her chest so loud there was a chance the mic would pick it up.

“That only sounds like poetry because of the accent,” she said blandly, trying to neaten an already perfect stack of paper.

“I painted you,” he told her, and made her hands tighten on the pages.

“The Ex did not take it well,” Elijah supplied. “It was the first instance that Klaus reached out to me in years. She was threatening to tell the press a number of lies that would end his professional world and ruin his interpersonal prospects. I can’t speak to the specifics but it was very… Gone Girl.”

Caroline said a dark, dirty swear under her breath, and looked at Klaus again.

“What did you do?”

“I told her I’d destroy the painting as a symbol of devotion,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t do it. And I woke up to the fact that you had only been in my life for three days, but you were so much kinder to me than she had been in _years_. I left my apartment with the painting and the clothes on my back, and I refused to answer her calls.”

“The Ex and Lucien had always been close,” Elijah followed up. “Klaus had leaned on Lucien for almost all the time they had been friendly. She reached out to Lucien who set them up to meet without Klaus’ knowledge – some attempt to corral Klaus back into the box that she was keeping him in, no doubt – but when my brother suspected him and did not show to meet, the Ex lost her temper and killed Lucien in a fit. She was sober enough to tamper with the scene enough to cast reasonable doubt; but that wasn’t enough.”

“If she had left Lucien’s body staged as though a robbery had gone wrong, no one would’ve known,” Klaus commented. “Not even I would suspect her. But she doubled back some time after to plant evidence that I had been there.”

“She wanted to hurt my brother specifically,” Elijah clarified. “If not for that strain of viciousness, she would’ve walked free.”

“That’s… too close for comfort,” Caroline said, a little dazed. It had been a close, close call, that Klaus was free, and not waiting to be receiving a last meal and a lethal injection. The thought of Klaus behind bars made her stare at him with meaning. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Klaus replied roughly, a half smirk marking his mouth. “Although I’m much better now for seeing you again.”

She cleared her throat, and asked Elijah one of the highlighted questions Alaric had insisted that she ask.

 _It begins and ends with us_ , rang in her head like a song.

It was the sweetest song she’d ever heard.


	18. The Bar

How she’d managed to get out of that conference room privately was a mystery and a wonder to her. Seriously. Klaus hadn’t taken his eyes off of her for a single second, so she needed a distraction to get in between them. The _second_ that Bonnie showed up to get her photos, Caroline had swiped her arm over her things to catch them in her free hand, and scurried away like she had a warrant out against her name.

The Grill had good wifi. It was the closest thing to get her dashing out of the rain and in safety, but that didn’t stop the sheet of horizontal storm that whipped her hair and coattail in the wind.

“Hey Care,” said the kid behind the bar. He looked like a brunette version of Matt at that age, with a touch more acne. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there, huh?”

“Yeah, no kidding,” she grumbled, taking off her jacket. She shook it on the mat before hanging it up to dry. Her hair was so wet it slicked to her head flat. “It really came out of nowhere.”

The kid made some kind of dumb noise in reply, but she was too busy thinking through everything that had happened to really pay it much mind. She walked to the stool and took a seat, asking for a coffee on autopilot.

All her feels were a muddy, swirling mess. She rubbed her fingertips into her hair to try and do something about the building headache, shutting her eyes for the briefest moment before reaching into her bag for her notes.

Honestly?

Aside from all the personal shenanigans? It had been an A+ interview. A lot had been uncovered that Elijah maintained was safe to be discussed, though she would be getting Alaric to send the final product to him for a watch through just in case. There was absolutely no need for that guy to be hounding her over some legality that they had missed.

She had been more or less professional after the initial conversation, and had kept the words coming in an easy, eloquent way. It helped that Elijah spoke so well, sure, but even he was not immune to Klaus’ locked in focus on the side of her head.

“Hey,” said a rough voice. “May I borrow your pen?”

Instinctively, she held it out before her eyes followed her arm up to see to whom she was lending.

“Holy _shit_ ,” said the kid, setting down Caroline’s coffee. His eyes were huge in his head, mouth popped open. “You’re- you’re Klaus Mikealson!”

“I am,” he said. His hair was a few shades darker with the weight of the water, a crystalline drop trailing over his brow and cheek. He didn’t look away from her face, but she couldn’t tell what he was feeling. For once, she was unnerved by him, unsure of what to say or do. “Just a pint of larger, thanks mate.”

The kid gawked for a minute, then hustled ass to do as he was asked.

Klaus took a seat right next to her, rolling the pen between his thumb and forefinger. He stole the napkin from her plate, scribbled something down onto it, and gave the kid a half-cocked smile when he returned with the beer.

“You’re –“ he said.

“Still Klaus Mikealson,” Klaus said, throaty. “Tell you what, Aaron-“

“You know my-?” The kid looked down at his apron, and the shiny nametag gleaming in the low light from above. “Oh. Yeah.”

“You let us have a private conversation until we’re ready to leave,” Klaus said mildly, jotting something short down on the napkin. He lifted it between them, then held it out to the stunned teen. “And I’ll be in a handful of selfies.”

“Uh-!” Aaron, still shocked, looked to Caroline. His voice broke three times when he said: “Caroline? You okay?”

Bewildered, she blinked at him, then Klaus again.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, and sheepishly ducked her gaze to the bar. “Yeah, Aaron, I’m okay.”

“Should I call Matt?”

“Matt will probably start something before Klaus will,” Caroline mentioned. “It’s okay. We’re all good here.”

Aaron accepted the loftily held napkin with Klaus’ signature on it, worrying the fabric between his hands for a moment. Then he side-stepped to the other end of the bar, mechanically getting out dishes to shine and pretending not to look at them.

Klaus waited for a moment.

“Matt is your boyfriend, then?”

“No,” she amended. “Matt is an old friend from high school. He’s the sheriff.”

“Ah.” There was a pause. “So your mother likes him?”

“She did,” she said, falsely light. She picked up her coffee cup with both hands. “Mom died last year. Cancer. We didn’t see it coming.”

“Oh, Caroline…” His hand broke into her peripheral vision but hesitated on the gloss of the bar. All his fingers flexed like he meant to ground her, but he just put his hand down. “I’m sorry to hear that, love. My condolences.”

“Thanks,” she said absently. It still hurt. Nothing had ripped open her heart and soul like watching her powerful mother lay grey and lifeless on that squeaky hospital bed. “But I guess you didn’t follow me out here to talk about that, right?”

“Not exactly,” he murmured. “But if it’s what you want to talk to me about, then I will be glad to listen.”

“No,” she said simply. Gathering her bravery, she looked at him, nursing her mug protectively to her chest. Her lip hurt when she started to chew it again. “What can I do for you?”

He was absolutely soaked from the rain, and yet he still looked a little more than out of place in his clearly expensive clothes. There was nothing about this man that matched the hottest spot in her little out-of-the-way town. Yet when she saw him, her heart was full and happy, swelling with the sense of wholeness. He might not have suited her town, but seeing him there sure suited her.

“I know that things weren’t ever solidly defined between us,” he began softly. “But… I’d like to keep you in my life, if that’s alright with you.”

“I don’t mind,” she agreed quickly. “Sure. Yeah. I mean – I mean, how do you want to do that? What does that look like, to you?”

“It looks like what it should’ve always been,” he said mildly. “You and I. As much as we like, whenever, and wherever we would like to be.”

She cleared her throat and set her coffee down before she spilled it.

“Was that your way of asking me out?” she clarified.

“Yes,” he replied confidently. “I should’ve done the moment you showed up to borrow my pen. You and that blue bra, Caroline, should’ve been with me for the last two years. The same way you and this pink bra should be.”

She looked down and scoffed loudly – no wonder the poor kid had been stuttery. Her Victoria's Secret wasn't much of a secret in her very professional - and VERY WET - button down. 

“Why are my boobs always visible to you?” she grumbled, feeling heat in her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a look that quickly morphed into laughter, and a fond swipe at his arm. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” he snickered. “And oddly, quite endearing. Was that your way of saying you’ll accept?”

“We don’t even know each other,” she reasoned.

“We were interrupted,” he said. “And I don’t know everything about you, but I know enough.”

“That’s – not… relationship material.“ She turned to look mindlessly at the reflection of herself in the mirror behind the bar. Trying to gather her thoughts, she stared without seeing. “We didn’t know each other, and it was only three days, and you only knew me when I was emotional and desperate and –“

“I know that my heart stops when you smile at me,” he told the side of her head. “I know that three days was enough time to know that I missed you, and I wished that I knew where you were, and what I had done to frighten you away.”

“I was never frightened of you,” she mumbled, daring to sneak a side long glance at him. Unfortunately for her, she got stuck looking at the gorgeous sincerity on his face. She shook her head lamely. “We can’t just – be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Do you have someone else in mind?”

“No,” she scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean I can just go play fancy house with you.”

“My, my. How presumptuous,” he mused. “I never took you for the type to move in with a man before you knew things were serious.”

“I didn’t mean moving in-“ she started, but recalled with a vicious clarity that she’d already technically moved in with him once. “Oh, har har. You’re very funny.”

“Hilarious. It’s one of my many charming talents,” he agreed, his smile stretching into a tantalizing grin that checked the dimple in his cheek. “Date me.”

“It’s not that simple,” she argued. “You just got out of a life-threatening court case, and long term _thing_ with The Ex. And from what you and Elijah literally just told me? It was not a good thing. You need time to process.”

His smile faded. She missed the heat of his stare when he turned it away from her. His shoulders sagged an inch, and he gave a solemn nod.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“It’s not that you pushed. Trust me, I know pushy,” she tried, regretting the loss of the smile. Her hand touched the back of his wrist, fingers curling around to keep him near. “Hey… You were so good to me when I left Tyler. You knew I was – in my head, and my heart was broken, and you knew a rebound wasn’t the best thing for me. You wanted to do it right by me then. Please let me do right by you. I’m not saying no - I’m saying not now.”

“Our timing is always awful,” he mumbled.

“The worst,” she agreed, falsely bright. “Especially since you seem to think we were fated.”

“Fate doesn’t always mean things are easy.” He still didn’t look at her. She stroked her thumb over his wrist bone, watching the side of his face. He looked healthy and well, considering all the stress he’d been under. “I knew then that I didn’t want you to leave with your mother, but I didn’t want you to feel trapped with everything you had suffered at Tyler’s hand.”

“And the last thing I want,” she told him gently. “Is to put you in a position that doesn’t allow you to make some choices for yourself, knowing that Aurora took that away from you.”

He made a grumpy noise of agreement.

“But on the bright side,” she continued, waiting until he looked at her. She hastened to smile, dragging one out of him too. “I don’t have anything against hanging out and being friends, so we can do that if you want?”

The corner of his lips curled.

“I’d like that,” he said. “This town is tricky to navigate. I might need a hand getting from spot to spot.”

“The Grill is essentially the only spot worth going to, and we’re in it,” she offered with a snort. “There isn’t much else to see.”

“Well maybe I need a local to show me the ropes while I settle in,” he shrugged. “You know. How to handle the small townsfolk, and what gossip I need to know.”

“Settle in?” she cocked her head. “What do you mean, ‘settle in’? Settle in where?”

“Here. In Mystic Falls.” He cracked an entirely unrepentant grin. “I may or may not have overestimated the situation between us, love. And while I’d say we’re a long way from moving in together – this time, at least – I did foresee a need to be close to the place of your work. Far be it from me to uproot your life when I know you work so hard at it.”

Blinking, she looked at him with a deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“You’ve got a place here?” she said dumbly.

“I technically had a place here four days ago,” he said with a shrug. “Real estate is one of my many hobbies. Would you like to see it?”

“You would move here?” she blurted. “For me?”

“Well I didn’t move here for the falls,” he quipped under his breath. He narrowed his eyes a little in thought. “Have I overstepped?”

Forcing a mouthful of coffee down, she continued to stare at him over the top of her mug. She saw him start to reconsider for a moment, saw the slow rise of panic and embarrassment begin to build in his eyes. Never enjoying the misery of others, Caroline put her mug down and caught his hand with hers.

“Come back to my place,” she told him, thick with emotion. “Mom told me a hundred times to invite that nice boxer over to our house.”

“As long as you don’t mind,” he said with a solemn nod. “I don’t want you to think I presume you’ll be mine, Caroline, what with buying the house before I’d even spoken to you.”

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know that anyone would follow me anywhere,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face before she burst into tears. Life was weird, and Klaus was such a surprising bit of that weirdness. “Especially not to Mystic Falls, when I know what your penthouse was like, and what I can guess the new place looks like.”

Relief made him relax, and he sneakily relocated his hand so that her digits slipped through the cracks of his knuckles, giving them a small squeeze.

“I’d be mad not to follow you,” he assured her, gravelly. “Let me get some photos in with the boy, and I’ll follow you home, love.”


End file.
